Drawn to Danger
by Rubious
Summary: While on an assignment with a pair of retrieval agents, Meryl and Milly return to May City where they meet old friends as well as foes. Complete.
1. Beginnings

The "gap" in Trigun between the Fifth Moon incident and when Wolfwood locates Vash living under an alias in Kasted City is fertile territory for storytelling. The lives of Meryl, Milly, and Wolfwood haven't been detailed during this time. I've always wanted to explore what projects the insurance investigators might've been assigned and what else might the traveling preacher do besides searching for the missing Humanoid Typhoon  
  
This story is a crossover with Get Backers, an anime that debuted in the fall of 2002 and is based on the ongoing manga of the same name. The Get Backers are Ban Mido and Ginji Amano, who specialize in retrieving stolen items. Their motto is "If it's stolen, we'll steal it back." They have an almost perfect success rate.  
  
Get Backers is an action-filled anime with entertaining characters. I became aware of the series through the anime club I belong to. If you have the opportunity, look for the first two DVDs of the anime on Ebay.  
  
For more information on the series and pictures of the characters, please check out the official site, www.tbs.co.jp/getbackers.  
  
~~~~~++++++~~~~~~  
  
Title: Drawn to Danger [1/8]  
  
Author: Rubious  
  
Series: Trigun & Get Backers  
  
Rating: R  
  
Warnings: angst, violence, humor, gunplay, AU-OOC.  
  
Disclaimer: Trigun © Nightow. Get Backers © Aoki and Ayamine. All original characters including but not limited to Blaine, Lamassi, etc, are © Rubious and are not to be used without permission. This story is a work of fanfiction and is for entertainment purposes only.  
  
Spoilers: Contains minor spoilers for both series.  
  
Archive: fanfiction.net under "Rubious", mediaminer.org under "Rubious2", and my home page, Odango and Donuts, URL in bio info.  
  
Notes: While on assignment with Ban and Ginji of the Get Backers, Meryl and Milly are drawn into danger as they meet old friends as well as foes in May City.  
  
//thoughts// ***** "Stryfe!" the claims department manager called out from the open door to his office, "Could you come in here please?"  
  
Every employee in the room momentarily paused their activities; all heads swiveled to see Meryl Stryfe's reaction to the boss's request. As afternoon sunshine spilled through the windows, curious coworkers whispered amongst themselves about the meeting because it wasn't often an employee was summoned into the manager's office. The speculation was a welcome diversion from the monotony of yet another dull day at the Bernardelli Insurance Society.  
  
But the others would be disappointed to see that any explosions wouldn't be forthcoming. Sighing as she pushed her chair back from the desk, Meryl walked quietly into the manager's office, shutting the door behind her.  
  
"Please sit down," Mr. Lamassi said invitingly, gesturing for the subordinate to take a seat in one of the chairs before his messy, paper- strewn desk.  
  
Meryl studied the man's facial expression for any clues for the sudden change to a friendlier tone of voice. She wondered why he seemed so jovial. Was it time for the quarterly performance reviews? Speculative rumors of impending downsizing were circulating through the office because the firm's financial situation had become dire after paying off the claims filed in the aftermath of the Augusta disaster.  
  
She hoped she wouldn't become another statistic standing in the unemployment line. The insurance investigator knew her work hadn't been exemplary since returning from her assignment to monitor Vash the Stampede, but dismissed it as part of the trouble in readjusting to the office routine. The real cause of her distraction was the Humanoid Typhoon dominating her thoughts. Meryl's undeclared fondness for him preyed on her mind, causing her to lose focus on her daily reports.  
  
Lamassi sensed the uneasiness in the usually confident woman sitting across the desk from him. //With all of the rumors swirling around about the company's future, I would be too, especially if I didn't know the reason for being called in to see the boss.//  
  
In twenty years with the firm, he had worked his way through the ranks from an entry-level job to his current upper management position and he was known for his genuinely caring attitude he exhibited for the employees in his department.  
  
The boss felt the new assignment would be the stimulus to improve Meryl Stryfe's work, which had been lagging in quality recently. It suited her talents particularly well and also could possibly lift her sagging spirits from the doldrums.  
  
He leaned forward in his seat, elbows resting on the edge of the desk, and spoke in a non-threatening manner. "Meryl, the Bernardelli Insurance Society is moving in a new direction and..." A telephone call interrupted him. "Excuse me," he said to Meryl and quietly finished the phone conversation.  
  
The momentary pause sent Meryl's heartbeat racing, causing her to take a deep breath to try to steady her growing anxiety. //This is it. I'm getting laid off. Maybe Milly is too. What are we going to do?// A memory of Milly washing the windows as punishment for her habitual tardiness. // But I'm more worried about Milly than myself.//  
  
He hung up the phone and apologized for the interruption, "Sorry about that. Now where was I?"  
  
Meryl concentrated on what the manager was saying. "We want you be in the forefront. Because of the huge claims paid out after the tragedy in Augusta, the company is beginning a loss prevention program in an effort to curb potential claims. We have engaged the services of a unique team that specializes in retrieving stolen items; therefore if the missing items are recovered, the firm won't have to pay any claims for stolen property."  
  
She sighed with relief, grateful that her worries of impending unemployment were dispelled.  
  
Lamassi smiled, seeing that his employee wasn't unnerved by his announcement. "Because of your recent experiences in loss prevention on your last assignment," referring to Meryl's travels with Vash the Stampede, "I'm recommending that you and Milly Thompson be chosen to work with the retrieval team."  
  
The insurance investigator's face brightened when she heard that Milly would be working with her again. "Thank you, sir, for choosing me for this new project. We won't let you down." Not wanting to appear overly eager, she paused a few seconds before asking, "Can you tell me any more details about this assignment?"  
  
"In fact, Meryl, I can. You will be meeting the retrieval team shortly." He directed his secretary over the intercom to alert Milly to escort the two visitors waiting in the lobby to his office.  
  
Several minutes later, Milly Thompson, who had been reassigned to receptionist duty several weeks earlier, knocked on Mr. Lamassi's door.  
  
"Come in," Lamassi said.  
  
"Mr. Lamassi, the members of the retrieval team are here for the meeting. Is there anything else you need?" the tall brunette reported cheerfully.  
  
"Milly, gentlemen, please have a seat," the manager motioned to the newcomers to sit down in his office. Milly took a seat next to Meryl while two handsome young men plopped down on the sofa.  
  
"Hi, Meryl. I didn't know you were here for the meeting too," Milly whispered.  
  
"Yes. I've got some great news to share." Glancing over at the two new arrivals, she asked in a hushed voice, "Who are those guys?"  
  
"They're the Get Backers. Ginji Amano is the blond and the guy with the sunglasses is Ban Mido. We had a great time chatting in the lobby," Milly answered.  
  
"There's just something about Ban," Meryl remarked uneasily of the blue- eyed man peering at them.  
  
While the two women discussed their first impressions, the blond Get Backer smiled at them and nudged his partner, "Ban-chan, the girls seem very nice. The short one reminds me of Himiko."  
  
Ban eyed the insurance women over his round-lensed glasses. He noted Meryl's resemblance to a former colleague who had vowed to kill him, but he was presently more concerned with their financial situation. The Bernardelli job had come along at an opportune time because the men had been eking out a day-by-day existence.  
  
Lamassi got everyone's attention and brought the meeting to order. He gestured to the recovery team to introduce themselves to Milly and Meryl.  
  
Rising from the sofa, Ban stood with his arms akimbo, his long white shirttails hanging untucked from the baggy black pants and began his boastful speech. "We are the Get Backers. I'm Ban Mido and he's Ginji Amano." Ginji smiled at the mention of his name. "Our slogan is 'If something is stolen, we'll steal it back.' And our success rate is 100%."  
  
"Is that true?" Meryl inquired, skeptical of the youthful newcomer's claims. In the seat next to her, Milly giggled because the 18-year-old was behaving like the pro wrestlers she used to watch on Saturday morning television with her brothers, who exhibited an arrogant tone while they exhorted their fans to "say their prayers, eat their vitamins, and that they vowed to open a can of whupass on their opponents." [1]  
  
Lamassi assured the older investigator he had verified the information and that one of the references provided, the proprietor of the Honky Tonk Café, had recommended them highly.  
  
Stepping from behind his desk, the manager continued, "Gentlemen..."  
  
Meryl muttered, "Yeah, right." Milly glared reproachfully at her coworker. Luckily, the Get Backers didn't hear her rude remark.  
  
Resuming his statement, Lamassi spoke positively, "The Bernardelli insurance investigators traveling with you are top-notch agents who earned high praise for their work in handling Vash the Stampede. You'll be working with Meryl Stryfe and Milly Thompson on this assignment."  
  
"Excuse me, but who is Vash the Stampede?" Ginji asked, curiosity etched on his face.  
  
For a moment, Meryl couldn't believe her ears. Someone hadn't heard of the notorious Humanoid Typhoon?  
  
"Have you been living under a rock? Everyone's heard of Vash!" she blurted, and then she immediately regretted her outburst. She didn't want to offend the people she'd she had just met and would be working with.  
  
"Actually we live in Ban's car," the blonde answered matter-of-factly.  
  
"Sorry if we're not up to date, but we're new in town," Ban said firmly.  
  
In an effort to avert any further verbal sparring, Milly interjected, "Chief, so what is our next assignment."  
  
Relieved to see any differences nipped at an early stage, Lamassi explained, "I'm glad you asked. Our records indicate that theft claims for valuable firearms in May City soar in conjunction with the annual Quick Draw Tournament. Your mission is to act as the company's representatives and handle any claims that may be filed during the event. If there are any reports of stolen property, the Get Backers will handle the recovery effort."  
  
"Isn't it the police department's job to handle thefts?" Meryl wondered. Privately, she was glad the Get Backers weren't displaying any ill feeling towards her.  
  
"They're currently investigating a wave of robberies in the region, which might be attributed to an organized crime ring operating in the area. If you come across any useful information, please cooperate with the authorities," Lamassi answered. Looking at his employees, he said, "Since you were in May City for last year's tournament, you'll be on familiar ground for this assignment."  
  
"When do we leave?" Meryl asked.  
  
"Tomorrow morning. Meet here at 9am sharp."  
  
"We'll be there," Ban Mido said, sauntering out the door.  
  
In the lobby en route to their car, Ginji remarked, "It'll be good to sleep in a soft bed for once."  
  
Ban readily agreed, "Right. It gets cramped sleeping in the car and it's murder on my back."  
  
Several women had gathered in the staff lounge, drinking coffee and gossiping about the closed-door meeting in Lamassi's office. "Oh, my, those dudes were hot! Milly and Meryl are so lucky to be going with those hunks. I bet..." one secretary said.  
  
"Come on, those girls are too old for those guys. If they did hook up with the guys, they'd be robbing the cradle," a nineteen-year old intern snidely remarked.  
  
"Stacy, Milly and Meryl are only a couple of years older than you," retorted the first employee.  
  
"They're old hags!" Stacy said emphatically, the green viper of jealousy flashing its fangs in her barbed comments.  
  
"Don't let them hear you say that," another woman warned. Meryl's temper and Milly's imposing stature intimidated others into holding their tongues lest they would receive a sharp-edged retort or if things became heated, a shot from a well-aimed derringer.  
  
"Ladies, that's enough!" The senior administrative assistant, a woman in her early sixties, admonished the younger employees, her forehead wrinkling in disapproval. "Our two coworkers are very professional. Nothing will happen. Even if anything did, it's none of our business. Now get back to work before Mr. Lamassi comes around, wondering why his office staff is wasting company time."  
  
Stacy held her tongue, not willing to risk the wrath of the older woman who was in charge of the final grading on her performance in the work-study program. Privately, she wished the bitchy crone's dentures would fall out.  
  
Exiting the room, the haughty intern accidentally bumped into Meryl and Milly, who were en route to the bus stop where they would catch the uptown bus near their apartment, and mumbled an insincere apology.  
  
Milly nodded cordially and the pair continued on their way.  
  
A man who had just returned from a weeklong conference that day carried a stack of folders into the room. Glancing over his shoulder, he asked the intern, "Where are the Danger Girls off to?" She told him what little information she knew about it.  
  
The investigators were unaware of the moniker their fellow employees had bestowed upon them. "Danger Girls" was apropos for the duo as they had a penchant for being assigned to perilous missions as evidenced in their high- risk duty of monitoring Vash the Stampede.  
  
While they would be traveling to familiar territory, the morning would bring the start of a new adventure where the future would collide with the past and painful memories would resurface.  
  
To be continued...  
  
Author's Notes [1] Hulk Hogan and Stone Cold Steve Austin inspired Ban's speech.  
  
[2] Danger Girl was a popular Image comic in the mid-'90s by J. Scott Campbell and Alex Garner. Wildstorm/DC recently published a Danger Girl one- shot.  
  
[3] For updates on upcoming fanfics, please check out my Live Journal at www.livejournal.com/~weisshund. 


	2. Journey

Title: Drawn to Danger [2/8]  
  
Author: Rubious  
  
Series: Trigun & Get Backers  
  
Rating: R  
  
Warnings: angst, violence, humor, gunplay, AU-OOC.  
  
Disclaimer: Trigun © Nightow. Get Backers © Aoki and Ayamine. All original characters including but not limited to Blaine, Lamassi, etc, are © Rubious and are not to be used without permission. This story is a work of fanfiction and is for entertainment purposes only.  
  
Spoilers: Contains minor spoilers for both series.  
  
Archive: fanfiction.net under "Rubious", mediaminer.org under "Rubious2", and my home page, Odango and Donuts, URL in bio info.  
  
Notes: While on assignment with Ban and Ginji of the Get Backers, Meryl and Milly are drawn into danger as they meet old friends as well as foes in May City.  
  
//thoughts//  
  
As the crosswalk signal began flashing red the morning after they met the Get Backers, Milly and Meryl dashed madly across the street, their roll- along luggage clattering wildly behind them. The women were late for a meeting at the Bernardelli Insurance Society office to go over the details of their next assignment. Gasping for breath, they paused outside of the BIS building.  
  
Meryl wasn't pleased with their situation. "Of all the days to be late," groused the petite investigator. She had wanted to convey the image of being the consummate professional, but being late to an important meeting would tarnish that reputation.  
  
"Oh, Meryl, I'm soooooo sorry," her roommate and coworker apologized profusely, Milly's eyes almost pleading for forgiveness. "I'm sorry my oversleeping caused us to miss the bus and we had to run all the way here."  
  
Meryl sighed, knowing that Milly's habitual tardiness couldn't be helped. Entering the building's lobby, she took off her running shoes, which had come in handy for their frantic dash, and donned her white suede ankle-high boots. "But you know how important this mission is, Milly. I just want to make sure everything goes right," she said gently.  
  
"I know," replied Milly, nodding with a comprehending smile, as the pair waited for the elevator that would take them up to the fourth floor for their meeting.  
  
Inside his office, Mr. Lamassi drummed his fingers in an impatient rhythm on his desk blotter, waiting for the women to arrive. He glanced over at the two young men sitting on the couch, engaged in conversation.  
  
With a big smile, Ginji gushed about the dinner Lamassi had treated them to the previous evening. "Thank you very much, sir, for the wonderful meal."  
  
Ban echoed the sentiment and added, "As I said last night, this place is a lot different than Shinjuku. The Italian dinner was a big change from our standard diet of rice and cold pizza. Thanks again."  
  
The manager smiled graciously, accepting the compliments, but an irritated edge to his voice emerged when he remarked, "Where are those girls?" He glanced at the clock on the wall with a frown.  
  
"Are they normally late?" Ban inquired.  
  
"Milly has a terrible habit of not being punctual, but I'm surprised that Meryl is late today. She's usually very prompt."  
  
"Maybe they forgot?" Ginji suggested uncertainly.  
  
Before he could answer, Lamassi was grateful for the interruption by the knock on his door. "Come in," he called out.  
  
The men turned to see the overdue insurance investigators entering their supervisor's office.  
  
"We apologize for being late, chief. We missed the bus and ran all the way here from our apartment," explained Meryl, who was still a little bit winded. Her rosy complexion showed faint signs of exertion.  
  
"At least, you're here," the manager said, waving aside the explanation. "Ladies, please have a seat and we can get started." The women sat down as Lamassi began to brief them on the details of the assignment and the latest police report on the firearm thefts in the region.  
  
After a few minutes, Milly raised her hand to ask a question. "Um, chief, how are we going to get to May City? Are we riding with the boys?"  
  
Ban scoffed at the suggestion. "Not in our little car. There wouldn't be enough room for four people and their luggage."  
  
"Then how are we getting there?" Meryl quickly interjected.  
  
"You'll take the bus that leaves for May City in two hours. You'll have to arrange for accommodations once you arrive there," Lamassi answered.  
  
"But you promised us a hotel room as part of our compensation," Ban protested with scowl, he had plans for a relaxed evening for a change.  
  
Ginji slid over on the couch to placate his disappointed colleague. "It's okay, Ban-chan. We can sleep in the car like usual," he said in a consoling voice.  
  
"But we can't!" Meryl countered angrily.  
  
With a shake of his head, Lamassi explained, "Since the company made the last-minute decision to go ahead with this project, the time to make the necessary arrangements for lodging was nonexistent. You'll be given an allowance to cover any necessary expenses, but I must remind you that because of the firm's financial condition, this allowance must not be exceeded or there will be consequences." Upper management at Bernardelli was pressuring him and other department heads to curb costs in order to improve profitability. But he still regretted being unable to show his appreciation to two of his best agents with a nice place to stay.  
  
"What might happen if we do by accident, boss?" Milly asked, wondering what the unrevealed negative outcome could be.  
  
"Disciplinary actions could include possible suspension without pay or reprimands that will go on the employee's permanent personnel record," he said, matter-of-factly. He handed the women their travel vouchers and a company credit card. "Used it wisely," their supervisor cautioned.  
  
"We will," the senior investigator replied.  
  
After a few minutes of additional discussion and assorted farewells, Meryl exited the office with Milly and the Get Backers following close behind.  
  
Before the insurance agents departed for the bus station across the street, they temporarily stowed their luggage in the small trunk of Ban's car and joined their new associates for a late breakfast at a busy nearby diner.  
  
In a booth, they ate their breakfasts quietly.  
  
As Ban chewed a piece of his buttermilk pancake, he gazed earnestly at the two women seated across from him. He noted that in the brief period that he had known them, Meryl was the most assertive of the pair while the tall brunette was more easygoing than the short-statured woman. The dark-haired teen decided to demonstrate his abilities and use the Jagan on Milly rather than her partner, who he thought would be more apt to be upset if she found out what happened.  
  
Peering over the rims of his violet-tinted spectacles, Ban stared into Milly's eyes and concentrated, letting his unique skill go to work. After glancing at the second hand of his watch, he turned to Ginji and winked knowingly.  
  
Milly blinked, trying to focus on the man sitting across from her. //What's this weird feeling I have? Whatever it is, it sure feels good.// In her mind's eye, the present scene of the bustling restaurant was replaced with a pleasant vision.  
  
On a sunny day, Milly found herself by a large swimming pool filled with chocolate pudding. She and Meryl, clad in bikinis, relaxed on chaise lounges as they enjoyed the sunshine while sipping exotic drinks that were brought to them by Nicholas Wolfwood and Vash the Stampede. The men wore nothing but bowties and brief swim trunks.  
  
After looking at the delicious looking pool, Milly dove in, relishing the smoothness of the pudding against her skin as she broke the surface with nary a ripple. She backstroked lazily across the pool until she reached the shallow end.  
  
When the statuesque brunette stood up, the dessert cascaded from her body like chocolate raindrops. She smiled at Wolfwood, acknowledging his admiring gaze as she moved towards him like a goddess emerging from the ocean.  
  
While Milly enjoyed the Jagan-induced reverie, the Get Backers distracted Meryl by asking her questions about May City.  
  
Unsure about some specifics of their last visit, Meryl turned to her coworker to ask if she remembered the details, but saw that Milly was lost in thought. She jostled the brunette's elbow to get her attention. "Milly, are you okay? Did you hear my question?" she asked in a concerned voice.  
  
"I'm fine. I guess I was daydreaming," the taller agent responded embarrassedly. "I appreciate your asking."  
  
Grinning impishly, Ban asked good-naturedly, "Did you have a nice dream?"  
  
"Yes, I did. I dreamed of two of my favorite things, pudding and Mr. Priest," she said happily.  
  
Hearing this, Meryl rolled her eyes. "Typical Milly," she mumbled.  
  
Ban leaned forward and explained, "You just experienced the Jagan which is my ability to give you either a nightmare or a sweet dream that lasts one minute." His beaming smile indicated that he was quite pleased with the results of his demonstration. He could only use his special power three times in a day, but he felt showing them what they could do was important enough to make the investment.  
  
Misinterpreting the situation, Meryl's face darkened as she saw the man's smugness at her friend's expense. //How dare he make fun of Milly like that? What a jerk!// Though she seethed inwardly, she realized the success of their assignment rested on cooperating with the Get Backers and she didn't want to jeopardize that by alienating them.  
  
Hoping to soothe the woman's ruffled feathers, Ginji moved swiftly to assuage any hurt feelings. "Ban didn't mean to upset you. He just wanted to show you how we can help on the mission," the blonde Get Backer clarified apologetically. Looking at his partner, he added, "Right, Ban-chan?"  
  
Ban nodded and resumed eating his breakfast. An uneasy silence covered the quartet like a heavy fog that was broken only by the clinking of utensils as they ate and the waitress refilling their beverages.  
  
As she sipped her tea, Meryl focused more closely on the Get Backers. When she first saw the spiky-haired Ban Mido with his piercing blue eyes, she knew there was something different about him. He was brash and very self- confident to the point of being arrogant. //I don't know if I will ever get used to him being around.//  
  
On the other hand, Ginji Amano seemed more affable and outgoing than his partner; his sweet demeanor was similar to that of the missing Vash the Stampede. His disarming smile and warm eyes made people feel at ease. //He sort of reminds me of Milly.// she mused thoughtfully.  
  
Eventually, the waitress came by their booth and asked, "Will there be anything else?"  
  
Ban answered for the group, "No thanks. Everything's fine." The waitress departed to figure out the tab.  
  
A few minutes later, the server returned with the bill. Meryl reached into her purse and took out the credit card Lamassi had entrusted her with. Recalling his words to spend it wisely, she deemed the get-acquainted meal a necessary business expense. She signed the slip and stuck the receipt in the packet containing the travel vouchers.  
  
As the group left the diner, the cashier called out, "Have a nice day."  
  
Ginji glanced back over his shoulder and replied, "Thanks. You too."  
  
Retrieving their luggage from the Get Backers' car, the petite woman checked her watch to see if there was enough time before the bus departed. "Good. We'll make it with time to spare," Meryl remarked.  
  
When Milly began lifting the suitcases from the trunk, Ban offered, "Need me to give you a hand?" He still hoped to make up for the earlier misunderstanding.  
  
With a reassuring smile, Milly replied, "No thanks. I can manage." She hefted the baggage with ease.  
  
Before leaving, Meryl asked, "Do you have the map to May City?" Seeing Ban nod, she continued, "We'll see you in a few hours then."  
  
"Where should we meet you?" Ban wondered.  
  
Meryl thought for a moment and said, "In front of the Angst Theater. It's a well-known landmark. You can't miss it."  
  
"Maybe we could see a movie while we're there," Milly chimed in.  
  
"Let's go, Milly," Meryl growled, a tad annoyed with her partner.  
  
"Have a safe drive," Milly said to the two men.  
  
"See ya later," Ginji called out to the women as they walked away.  
  
Leaning against their white Subaru, Ban thoughtfully lit a cigarette and took a drag from it. "Ginji, this job will certainly be a change of pace for us. We're supposed to recover things that haven't been stolen yet."  
  
Ginji agreed, yet seemed concerned. "You're right and we're working with nice people too, but I sense a hidden sadness in Meryl." The blond had been rather quiet while observing their new associates and he wanted to share his worries with his partner.  
  
After Ban finished his cigarette, the two young men headed out on the road to May City.  
  
Meanwhile, in the nearby bus station, the Bernardelli insurance investigators checked their luggage and waited in the terminal.  
  
Finally, the women boarded the bus and found two seats together in the back of the crowded vehicle. As the bus pulled away from the depot, Milly gazed out the window at the downtown buildings and remarked, "Meryl, it'll be strange being at the Quick Draw Tournament without Mr. Vash. Do you remember what happened when he and Mr. Priest entered each other's names in the shooting contest?"  
  
The mention of their old traveling companions made Meryl wince. After Vash disappeared, Wolfwood had presumably gone to search for him, but she hadn't heard any news from the gun-toting preacher in quite awhile. //Don't remind me of that endearing idiot that made such a big mess of things. I'm trying to use work to help me forget him, but it's not succeeding."  
  
Rather than dredge up painful memories, Meryl refused to answer and changed the subject. "Riding the bus is more practical than taking the sand steamer. It's cheaper and safer, too. The last time we were on a sand steamer the Bad Lads hijacked it. If it wasn't for Vash..." As her words trailed off, Meryl sighed. //Damn. Why can't I just forget him?//  
  
With a sympathetic smile, Milly touched her friend's shoulder reassuringly and said, "It'll be alright."  
  
Nodding, Meryl concentrated on budgeting their expenses to occupy her mind until they reached their destination.  
  
On a barren stretch of desert highway, Ban tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, matching the beat of the music of Bon Bon Blanco and Otoha that played on the car's CD player while Ginji sang along, using an empty pop bottle as a microphone. "I really like that 'Refrain' song. The singer sounds just like Natsumi," Ginji remarked. [1]  
  
Ban eyed his partner and teased, "Are you practicing for karaoke night at the Honky Tonk?" What he didn't see in the rearview mirror was a large tractor-trailer barreling down on them at an increasingly high rate of speed.  
  
"Watch out!" Ginji yelled, his kind smile turning to a look of alarm as the maroon cab hauling the silver trailer emblazoned with JNPDT in blue letters on the side blasted its horn repeatedly, demanding that they make way for it to pass.  
  
Ban swore at the unseen driver of the 18-wheeler. "Who the hell does that bastard think he is?! A fucking gearhead?" He abruptly yanked the steering wheel to the right, sending the Subaru spinning off the road in a swirling cloud of dust. [2]  
  
"Ginji, are you okay?" the angry Get Backer asked in a worried voice. Once he'd been reassured that all was well, he got out of the car and gave it a once-over. He felt better after seeing that there wasn't any damage.  
  
As Ban climbed back into the driver's seat, Ginji remarked, "I think that was one of the trucks for the stunt driving team."  
  
"Huh?" Ban gave him a quizzical look.  
  
"Last night at dinner Mr. Lamassi told me that the stunt driving team was in town last week and now they're going to Little Jersey for their next tour stop."  
  
"That idiot drives like the guy who chased us with a Mack truck down an alley." Then the two teens laughed at how they eluded the Transporters in Shinjuku.  
  
The remainder of the trip to May City was uneventful until they were stopped in a traffic jam on the outskirts of town. A white van pulled up on the Subaru's passenger side, its driver calling out in a familiar voice, "Ginji-kun, fancy meeting you here."  
  
A sudden chill swept over the electrifying teen when he heard the smooth yet sinister voice say his name. "Aka...Akabane!" he stammered as the enigmatic driver smiled dangerously at him.  
  
Before Ginji could get his partner's attention, Akabane and the vehicle, which was transporting the unidentifiable remains of victims from an industrial explosion, were gone, but the bold image of the crimson "J" adorning the casket warehouse truck would be etched vividly in Ginji's mind. [3]  
  
Soon, the traffic snarl caused by motorists gawking at a policeman questioning an elderly woman who had crashed her car through the front window of a restaurant had cleared up. Five minutes later, Ban maneuvered the car into a parking spot in front of the Angst Theater where the insurance girls arrived shortly thereafter.  
  
Across the street from the theater, someone watched Ginji greet Meryl and Milly enthusiastically. "Hmm. Who are those dudes hanging out with the insurance girls? I'm gonna keep my eye on them," the observer said before going off in search of the nearest saloon.  
  
To be continued...  
  
Author's Notes  
  
[1] "Ichibyou no Refrain" is the first Get Backers ending theme and is sung by Otoha, who voices Natsumi in the anime. Bon Bon Blanco performs the second closing theme.  
  
[2] The unseen truck driver is Mr. No-Brake from Get Backers.  
  
[3] The mysterious Doctor Jackal, Akabane Kurodo, from Get Backers, makes a cameo. The Romanization of the kanji for his name is "red corpse warehouse person", hence the casket delivery van.  
  
[4] For updates on upcoming fanfics, please check out my Live Journal at www.livejournal.com/~weisshund. 


	3. Reunions

Title: Drawn to Danger [3/8]  
  
Author: Rubious  
  
Series: Trigun & Get Backers  
  
Rating: R  
  
Warnings: angst, violence, humor, gunplay, AU-OOC.  
  
Disclaimer: Trigun © Nightow. Get Backers © Aoki and Ayamine. All original characters including but not limited to Blaine, Lamassi, etc, are © Rubious and are not to be used without permission. This story is a work of fanfiction and is for entertainment purposes only.  
  
Spoilers: Contains minor spoilers for both series.  
  
Archive: fanfiction.net under "Rubious", mediaminer.org under "Rubious2", and my home page, Odango and Donuts, URL in bio info.  
  
Notes: While on assignment with Ban and Ginji of the Get Backers, Meryl and Milly are drawn into danger as they meet old friends as well as foes in May City.  
  
//thoughts//  
  
Having reached their destination, Meryl and Milly rendezvoused with the Get Backers outside of the Angst Theater in May City. Ban and Ginji recounted their near miss with a speeding semi on their trip.  
  
"I'm so glad you guys arrived safely," Milly commented cheerfully.  
  
"Those truckers are too reckless," remarked Meryl. "At least there wasn't an accident." Inwardly, she expressed relief that she didn't have to file another accident claim form.  
  
."You're right," Ban readily agreed. "Drivers here are just as crazy as they are in Tokyo."  
  
Looking longingly at a movie poster advertising a historical romance, Milly suggested happily, "Now that we're all here safe and sound, why don't we go see a movie to celebrate the start of our job?" Turning to Meryl, she asked, "Do we have time?"  
  
A serious expression formed on the diminutive investigator's face. "We just got here and we have a job to do, Milly. First, we have to find the place where the chief suggested we make arrangements for a place for us to stay," Meryl responded brusquely. Noticing that her partner's smile had become a frown, her tone softened and she quickly added, "Maybe we could all see a movie tonight if the guys would like to join us?"  
  
The Get Backers grinned. "Sounds like a good idea. It's been a while since we've seen a flick. Right, Ginji?" Ban asked.  
  
Looking upwards at the theater's marquee, Ginji pondered which of the two movies that were showing, "Price of Denial" or "Bittersweet Memory", would be more appealing, but he also wanted his colleague's input. "Ban-chan, which one do you want to see?" he asked thoughtfully.  
  
The spiky-haired teen walked over by the theater's ticket office and read the poster for the action-filled drama, reciting excerpts from critics' reviews that endorsed the film "An emotional tapestry that is sure to please... Loads of electrifying action and nerve-wracking plot twists."  
  
Several feet away, Milly smiled knowingly and whispered into Meryl's ear. "I know why he prefers this movie. The guy on the poster looks like Ginji."  
  
Distracted by Ginji saying something to Ban, the petite woman replied, "I'm sorry. What'd you say?"  
  
"Never mind. It was nothing," the brunette said.  
  
After the women stowed their luggage in the Subaru, the group made their way to the housing agency Mr. Lamassi had referred them to. The town's streets and sidewalks had become more crowded as residents and tourists alike gathered at various locales for the tournament and its associated activities. Meandering through a mass of people, the quartet ended up in front of a small business located next to a resale clothing shop. Double- checking the card with the address numbers located above the entrance, Meryl glanced at the sign and said wearily, "Reasonable Rentals. Yeah, this is the place."  
  
They entered the dingy, cluttered office to find a tired-looking woman with scraggly hair seated behind a scratched-up desk. She was in the midst of a phone call when she looked up to see the potential customers. Hanging up the phone, she greeted them in a drained voice, "Welcome to Reasonable Rentals. Can I help you?"  
  
Before the travelers could respond, the woman's cell phone rang. "Can I call you back? I have some clients here," the woman answered. Her voice grew irritated. "What do you mean my check bounced? There's enough money in the account. Oh, great. Do you have any idea of how embarrassing this is?" Meryl waited patiently with her arms folded while the others glanced about the office, their expressions wishing the woman would hurry and finish her conversation. The housing agent clicked off the phone and set it down on the desk.  
  
"I'm sorry about that. It won't happen again. I turned the phone off," the travel agent said apologetically.  
  
Milly smiled and said in an understanding voice, "It's okay."  
  
Meryl stepped forward to ask if any reservations had been made for them since there was a remote possibility that the home office had made lodging arrangements. "It might be under Bernardelli. We're in town for the tournament."  
  
The travel agent sighed. "The name doesn't sound familiar, but I'll take a look." After looking through her Rolodex, she shook her head. "I'm sorry. I'm not finding any reservations made under that name. Tourists coming for the Quick Draw Tournament have snapped up almost of the rooms in town." She also looked under "Get Backers" and each person's name, but to their dismay, no reservations had been made for them.  
  
Milly looked at her coworker for guidance. "Gee, Meryl, what are we gonna do?"  
  
With her brows knit together in deep thought, she replied, "I'm thinking. I'm thinking."  
  
Ban emphasized to the travel agent, "We've had a long drive and really need to find a place to crash."  
  
The agent didn't want to turn any customers away and lose their business. "I'm not sure what your budget is, but the City Hotel does have two suites available." As a member of the tournament's organizing committee, she had up-to-date information on the amount of available accommodations.  
  
Ban and Ginji's faces brightened at the news and they nodded vigorously.  
  
Meryl mulled over their options. She silently cursed the Bernardelli bean counters that were too cheap to make any reservations. //Instead of a boardinghouse, we either sleep in the streets or at a top-rate hotel. But we'll have to pay outrageously to get those rooms at this late hour. I hope we don't lose our jobs if we break the budget.// Sighing she turned towards the agent and stated, "We'll take the suites."  
  
"Hurray, Meryl!" Milly remarked upon hearing the decision.  
  
"Cool!" the Get Backers chorused as they high-fived each other.  
  
The woman called over to the City Hotel and reserved the rooms for the group. She also gave them directions there. The grateful travelers thanked her for her efforts.  
  
On their way out to the hotel, Milly commented, "This place will be a lot better than the Shady Rest where that creepy old man spent all day sitting in a rocking chair, chewing tobacco, and telling dirty jokes."  
  
A short time later, the travel-weary group checked into their accommodations at the four-star hotel. Entering their suite, Ban and Ginji surveyed the spacious set-up and marveled at the luxury. "Wow! This is so much nicer than the hotel where we celebrated that successful mission," Ban commented.  
  
"Yes, that was a special night, Ban-chan," the slender blond said dreamily, recalling a blissful memory.  
  
Besides the two king-size beds and immaculate bathroom, there was a separate room with a comfortable sofa, an entertainment center with a wide- screen television, DVD player, and a theater-quality sound system. The room even had a minibar stocked with an extensive assortment of liquors.  
  
The bespectacled teen walked over to open the drapes. As he pulled the curtain chain, the afternoon sunshine streamed into the room. Ban stared at his partner, who seemed to have an almost electric aura about him.  
  
Eyeing the large beds, Ginji took a running leap onto the nearest one. "Ban- chan, this feels great!" the eighteen-year-old he exclaimed with childlike exuberance as he bounced up and down on the mattress as if it were a trampoline.  
  
Grinning at him, Ban remarked, "Stop being silly," and playfully tossed a down-filled pillow at Ginji, who threw back the pillow a little more forcefully. Soon the pillow fight escalated as the room was awash with feathers from the pillows.  
  
The dark-haired Get Backer collapsed on the bed, exhausted from the trip and the impromptu fun. "Ah, this is heavenly," he proclaimed before falling into a restful sleep. Taking an afghan from the sofa, Ginji covered him with it.  
  
Watching his friend slumber, he said softly, "Oh, Ban-chan..."  
  
After unpacking, the insurance girls decided to check out the festivities in May City. One side of the town square had become an open-air bazaar where vendors sold their wares and food stands had been set up to feed the attendees. The hottest selling souvenir was a t-shirt that proclaimed "Shot through the heart in May City." While browsing at a booth, Milly picked up a pudgy-faced bald plushie and showed it to Meryl. "This sorta looks like Mr. Lamassi, doesn't it?"  
  
Giggling at the doll's resemblance to their boss, Meryl answered, "Yeah, it sure does. Why don't we get it for him as a gift?" She noted that any souvenirs they purchased would be paid from personal funds and not included on their company expense report.  
  
Milly agreed, "He'll love it," knowing that the chief possessed a good sense of humor.  
  
As Milly paid for the purchase, Meryl's attention was diverted by a foursome walking past the food stalls. She swore that she heard a low rumbling noise coming from that direction. Meryl smirked at the scene of a boisterous boy hounding an older blond man dressed in white religious robes with a cigarette dangling from his lips, who was obviously annoyed with the pestering youth. //Wouldn't it be funny if the noise I heard were his stomach growling?//  
  
"I'm hungry," the lad wailed.  
  
"Quiet, saru. Shut up or I'm gonna hit you," the man warned.  
  
"But I'm hungry," the boy persisted. THWAP! The monk hit the youngster with a paper fan that he carried in his voluminous sleeve.  
  
Scowling, the lad rubbed his head where he had been struck. "You didn't have to do that."  
  
A lanky redhead walking behind them doubled over in laughter. "Baka! Won't you ever learn?"  
  
Turning around, the blond glared at him. "Shut up or I'll shoot you," he said snidely.  
  
The fourth member of the group, a scholarly man dressed in a green shirt and khaki pants interceded as peacemaker. "Come on, everyone, let's go have some lunch." A white dragon perched on his shoulder "kyu"ed happily in agreement.  
  
"I want meat buns!" the hungry teen exclaimed as the quartet went off to sate the boy's ravenous appetite. [1]  
  
Seeing them walk off, Meryl pondered that it had been a while since she and Milly had last eaten, so she went off to find her associate who was busy haggling with a merchant over items that she was buying as gifts for her family.  
  
Nicholas Wolfwood stood under a storefront awning, enjoying the shade it provided from the blazing heat, and leisurely smoked a cigarette. Observing the two women who had been his traveling companions months before browsing in the bazaar, he wondered why they might be in May City. //Last year, the girls couldn't enjoy the tournament, being busy with keeping Vash in check. So maybe they decided to take a vacation to come to this year's tourney?//  
  
Exhaling, the preacher watched the smoky tendrils waft away. He mused that it would be a pleasure to get reacquainted with the two women, but their initial happiness would yield to disappointment when they learned of his discouraging news. "Well, I better let 'em know," he said.  
  
The two insurance investigators had finished most of their shopping and were unaware of Wolfwood's approach. Moving behind them, he said casually, "Hello, ladies. Could I buy you a lemonade?"  
  
Preoccupied with thoughts of their assignment, Meryl was startled by the sound of the familiar voice and her mind filled rapidly with questions. Before she could utter any words to their old friend, the woman wasn't surprised at all to see that Milly had embraced Wolfwood in a tight bear hug.  
  
"Oh, Mr. Priest!" she squealed happily.  
  
"Milly, let go. He can't breathe," Meryl remarked, noting that her roommate's enthusiastic greeting wasn't atypical behavior.  
  
The brunette released her grip on the preacher, who then took a deep breath. "Thanks, Meryl. It's good to see you two again. It's been a long time."  
  
The first words out of Meryl's mouth were, "Did you find Vash?" She spoke in a hopeful tone.  
  
Wolfwood wasn't surprised by her outburst; her anxious expression belied the true feelings Meryl had for the missing gunman. Standing before her, he stared straight into her eyes and replied in a consoling voice, "Vash is still missing. I spent days combing the ruins of Augusta for him, but there was no trace of him. Don't give up hope; I'm still searching for Vash. You'll be the first ones to know if I find him."  
  
"Thanks, Wolfwood. We'd appreciate that," Meryl said softly, the disappointment evident in her voice. A reunion with the man she secretly carried a torch for wouldn't be forthcoming soon.  
  
"I'm sorry about the disappointing news, but how have you two been?" The black-haired man asked, smiling warmly.  
  
Though Meryl was still silent after hearing the news about Vash, Milly chimed in cheerfully. "We're fine. Still working for the insurance company." She then added, "Are you here for the tournament?"  
  
Grinning cockily, Wolfwood explained, "I'm here to win the top prize in the shooting contest, which I'll donate to the orphanage, and of course, I'll collect some additional donations while I'm in town."  
  
"I hope you win," Milly said confidently.  
  
"Are you ladies here for business or pleasure?" Wolfwood inquired.  
  
Meryl was still stewing about Vash and didn't offer a response. Her partner replied, "We're here on company business."  
  
The preacher commented, "Without Vash around, it'll seem a lot different this year." Observing that Meryl's emotions had gone from disappointment to sadness, he added, "I'm sorry he's not here. I miss him, too."  
  
"Thanks for caring, Wolfwood," she replied. His mentioning of Vash still being missing e made her feel uncomfortable around the preacher. Making a decision to avoid the haunting memories that seemed to ghost around her lately, she hastily excused herself "Um, pardon me, but I have to go now. I just remembered I have to do something."  
  
The other two looked at her with puzzled expressions. "Meryl?" Milly called out, but the petite investigator hurried off, leaving the preacher and the brunette behind at the bazaar.  
  
*****  
  
Meryl's emotions were swirling like a cyclone dancing across the desert. //Damn you, Vash! Why can't I forget you? // With thoughts of the Humanoid Typhoon occupying her thoughts, the normally no-nonsense investigator was having a difficult time maintaining a focus on the present assignment. Wolfwood's presence was another reminder of enjoyable memories that were becoming more painful day by day.  
  
Before she could continue the introspection, Meryl noticed a ruggedly handsome man who seemed vaguely familiar to her standing across the town square in front of the bank. The heartsick woman deliberately set aside her thoughts of Vash and distracted herself with the stranger who seemed vaguely familiar. Her curiosity piqued, she moved closer to get a better view.  
  
The stranger seemed to be in his mid-40s with a leathery complexion from spending many days working outdoors. His eyes were brown, with crow's feet at the corners and wavy black hair with a trace of gray at the temples. At about six feet tall, the man's lean yet muscular build accentuated the fashionable three-piece suit he was wearing.  
  
"Could it be?" Meryl mused aloud, trying to connect a name with the man's face. Then, a recollection came to light, striking the moment of recognition. "Deke Blaine! It is him!" she exclaimed in a voice not loud enough to make people stare at her. "God, it's been a few years since we last saw each other." A sense of wonder filled her voice as she recalled pleasant memories of time spent with him.  
  
Donald Charles "Deke" Blaine had been a friend of the Stryfe family since Meryl was a small child. Because he had been an exceptional marksman during his career in the armed forces, her father had asked him to train Meryl in how to handle firearms when she announced her intentions while she was in high school to leave home and seek a career after graduation. [2]  
  
During her firearms training, Meryl had developed a crush on her instructor, who was over twice her age at the time, but the affection was not mutual and he had gently rebuffed her. In the subsequent years, Blaine had gone on to become a successful entrepreneur and had lost contact with the Stryfe family.  
  
*****  
  
Exiting the bank, Blaine scowled briefly and glanced at his watch to see how long it was until his next business appointment. Looking around since he thought he heard someone call his name, he noticed a young woman wearing a white cloak was approaching him.  
  
"Deke! Deke! It is you!" the woman exclaimed.  
  
"Do I know you?" he replied warily, unsure of her identity and her intentions.  
  
"Actually, you do. I'm Meryl Stryfe. You've known my family for years," she said excitedly.  
  
Blaine recalled instructing her in shooting firearms years before. The former marksman surreptitiously observed that Meryl seemed more self- confident from her determined expression and purposeful stride than the awestruck tomboy he had taught; her figure had become womanlier, too.  
  
"My, you've blossomed into a lovely young lady," he remarked smoothly  
  
"Um, thank you," Meryl replied shyly. Curious about a man she hadn't seen for years, she asked, "How've you been? It's good to see you again." The unexpected meeting with someone from her past was a welcome distraction from the anxiety she was having over Vash.  
  
"Busy. And yourself?"  
  
"Alright." Figuring that a man with his skilled marksmanship would be attending the tournament, she inquired, "Are you entered in the shooting contest?"  
  
"No, I'm not. In fact, I'm here on business. My company is one of the event's sponsors. Are you one of the competitors? I'm sure you would win since you were on of my finest students. I've trained the best shooters around." His words reeked of arrogance.  
  
Meryl shook her head. "No, I'm here on business, too. As a representative of the Bernardelli Insurance Society, I'm here to handle any claims that might arise in the course of the competition." As she spoke, she studied the man closely. Age had treated him kindly since their last meeting. Although he came across as dignified, a hint of mystery surrounded him.  
  
Raising an eyebrow, Blaine remarked curiously, "Really? That's an interesting profession. You'll have to tell me all about it." //Bernardelli? That sounds familiar. I'll have to ask about her job.// Musing that Meryl's connection to the insurance company might be beneficial to him, he suggested in a friendly voice, "I can spare fifteen minutes until my next appointment. Would you like to go have a cup of coffee and catch up on things?"  
  
"That'd be wonderful," Meryl replied amiably. Although she wanted to impress her former teacher by telling him how the shooting lessons had contributed to her success as an insurance investigator, particularly her assignment of traveling with Vash the Stampede, Meryl was curious to learn more about how Deke has changed over the years since she'd last seen him.  
  
After chatting at the café for a little while, the entrepreneur said politely, "Give my regards to your parents," as he bade farewell to his former student.  
  
Watching him leave, Meryl stared into the nearly empty coffee cup, mulling over their conversation. //Why was he asking all those questions about my job?// She was still lost in thought when the waitress asked if she wanted a refill of her coffee.  
  
On his way back to his hotel, Blaine chuckled to himself about crossing paths with someone from his past and pondered that things could get interesting very soon.  
  
* * *  
  
To be continued... Author's Notes  
  
[1] After taking a detour on their westward journey, the Sanzo-ikkou stopped in May City for lunch.  
  
[2] Deke Blaine is an original character that was inspired by comments Meryl makes in the fourth volume of the Trigun Maximum manga about the unnamed instructor who taught her to shoot firearms.  
  
[3] For updates on upcoming fanfics, please check out my Live Journal at www.livejournal.com/~weisshund. 


	4. Preparations

Title: Drawn to Danger [4/8]  
  
Author: Rubious  
  
Series: Trigun & Get Backers  
  
Rating: R  
  
Warnings: angst, violence, humor, gunplay, AU-OOC.  
  
Disclaimer: Trigun © Nightow. Get Backers © Aoki and Ayamine. All original characters including but not limited to Blaine, Lamassi, etc, are © Rubious and are not to be used without permission. This story is a work of fanfiction and is for entertainment purposes only.  
  
Spoilers: Contains minor spoilers for both series.  
  
Archive: fanfiction.net under "Rubious", mediaminer.org under "Rubious2", and my home page, URL in bio info.  
  
Notes: While on assignment with Ban and Ginji of the Get Backers, Meryl and Milly are drawn into danger as they meet old friends as well as foes in May City.  
  
//thoughts//  
  
* * * *  
  
After enjoying a hearty meal, Wolfwood and Milly walked through the busy marketplace and discovered Meryl sitting alone on a bench in front of a boutique. The tall brunette asked her if she was hungry since she hadn't joined them for lunch.  
  
"No, I had some coffee and a croissant with Deke at a café," Meryl explained.  
  
"Who's Deke?" Milly inquired.  
  
"Just a friend of the family," her partner replied evasively.  
  
"A friend, huh?" Wolfwood interjected, smirking at Meryl's contemplative reaction to his comment. Glancing at his watch, he remarked, "Ladies, it was nice seeing you again, but I have an important appointment to go to. I'm sure I'll be seeing you around town during the tournament." He walked away, the Cross-Punisher slung over his shoulder.  
  
"Don't be a stranger," Milly called out.  
  
"Don't worry. I won't be," the preacher replied as he waved goodbye.  
  
Milly turned to her coworker and prodded Meryl for more information about the man she had shared coffee with. "Come on, you can tell me about him. I'm your closest friend." She was assuming the role her older sisters had played when they needled her about the latest boy she liked when she was in junior high school.  
  
Meryl relented to her friend's insistent cajoling by admitting the man she had met was a friend of the Stryfe family. Deke Blaine had given her firearms lessons after her father insisted she learn how to defend herself upon learning of Meryl's intentions to leave home after graduating high school. Though he was over twice her age, the infatuated girl had developed a crush on her instructor, but he made it painfully clear to his student that their relationship wouldn't continue on to a romantic level.  
  
"People tend to change over the years. He's probably not the same guy you knew back then," Milly remarked.  
  
"That's true. Deke is a great guy and it was nice to run into him again, but there was something odd about him. He was more concerned in learning about my job than he was in talking about himself."  
  
"Maybe he's just a private person who doesn't talk about himself," Milly offered.  
  
"Or he's got some secrets," Meryl speculated darkly.  
  
"We'll probably never know." Changing the subject to brighten the mood, the brunette asked cheerfully, "How does your mother like her new job?"  
  
Though she didn't talk much about her family, Meryl perked up when asked to share the news from the latest letter from her parents she had received. "She likes it a lot better. It pays more and has flexible hours. I just wish Mom didn't have to work in the first place, but ever since Dad's heart attack, she's had to." The petite woman's face softened for a moment as she thought about her parents.  
  
For the remainder of the afternoon, the two investigators conferred with the contest's organizing committee before returning to the City Hotel.  
  
* * * * *  
  
After inquiring with several people as to the whereabouts of the well-known gunsmith, Frank Marlon, Wolfwood located him near the shooting range. "Are you Frank Marlon?" he asked the middle-aged man who was watching some entrants practice for the upcoming tournament. [1]  
  
"Yes, I am. Can I help you?" Marlon replied, noting the large cloth-wrapped cross the preacher was carrying.  
  
"I was hoping you could repair a gun for me," Wolfwood explained, bending down to open a compartment in the Cross-Punisher and removing a small package. Opening the box to reveal a damaged silver-plated pistol, he showed the weapon to the gunsmith.  
  
Taking a closer view of the gun, Marlon picked it up carefully, running his fingers slowly over the barrel. "That's an AGL Arms .45 Long Colt. I fixed one for a guy several months ago," he said thoughtfully.  
  
"This gun belonged to Vash the Stampede," Wolfwood added, waiting to see what Marlon's reaction would be to the vanished gunman.  
  
The mention of the Humanoid Typhoon caused the gunsmith to pause, a stunned expression on his face. He blinked as memories of his meeting with Vash flowed into his mind's eye. In Warren City, Marlon spent time sharing booze with Vash as he related his story of how the once proud man had descended into drunkenness. When a group of bandits threatened the town, Marlon fooled the bandits into surrendering. If it hadn't been for his restored self-confidence, he wouldn't have been able to do the heroic deed. The chance meeting with Vash had indeed had a memorable effect on his life.  
  
"Are you all right?" Wolfwood asked, seeing the spacey look in Marlon's eyes.  
  
"Sorry about that. I zoned out for a little bit." Marlon took a deep breath and placed the weapon back in the box. "You say this is Vash's gun, right? Well, I'll be glad to fix it. As a favor to Vash, I'll do it for free."  
  
The black-haired preacher smiled graciously and said, "That's very generous of you. I really appreciate it. I'll let Vash know the next time I see him"  
  
The gunsmith told Wolfwood he should have the pistol repaired by the end of the tournament. Thanking him again, the preacher departed and returned to the boardinghouse where he was staying.  
  
* * * * *  
  
In a secluded house on the edge of the desert, Brilliant Dynamites Neon leaned over the map spread out on the wooden table, pointing out to the members of the Bad Lads the plan for robbing their next target, a firearms warehouse in May City. While most of the town would be busy watching the Quick Draw Tournament, they would break into the building and steal the weaponry inside and sell the goods to the highest bidder later.  
  
An incoming call interrupted the planning session. In a low voice he answered the phone, "Neon here," gesturing the Bad Lads to go outside to allow him some privacy. "We're going to hit the joint tomorrow afternoon and everything is going according to plan."  
  
The client wanted to be assured that the heist would go smoothly and that the Bad Lads wouldn't be foiled and embarrassed by Vash the Stampede or justice-seeking vigilantes.  
  
Neon's voice grew irritated at the reminder of the failed robbery. "Something like that won't happen. Besides Vash disappeared after he blew a hole in the moon." His eyes narrowed as he ended the conversation. "I'll contact you when the job is done so we can complete the deal," he said tersely and hung up the phone.  
  
Neon signaled for the Bad Lads to rejoin him at the table to go over their plans once again.  
  
Chuckling, Deke Blaine mused it was easy to get under people's skin if they were reminded of their shortcomings and past failures. He had confidence in Neon and his men because they had successfully pulled off similar assignments in the past and they had been compensated handsomely for their work. The stolen merchandise had then been sold on the black market at a huge markup to gangs, who proceeded to wreak havoc in numerous areas.  
  
By playing on people's fears to protect themselves during the gangs' crime spree, Blaine amassed huge profits from selling firearms to homeowners at exorbitant prices created by the spike in demand. With his eyes lit up like the double suns in the azure sky and an avaricious smile, he pondered the growing totals of double-dollars that flowed into his coffers.  
  
He had the utmost confidence in the brilliance of his scheme. The authorities couldn't connect him to the thefts and the insurance company hadn't discovered the scam he was running, having already paid on several of the submitted claims. The arrival of the Bernardelli insurance investigators might be a complicating factor, but one of them was an old acquaintance, and he was certain that she could be easily persuaded to see things his way by pulling at her heartstrings.  
  
* * * *  
  
Stretching his arms above his head, Ginji awakened from his nap, glanced over at his slumbering partner and smiled, but his growling stomach reminded him that he hadn't eaten since before leaving for May City that morning. Nudging Ban gently, he said, "Let's get some lunch."  
  
The brunette blinked the sleep out of his eyes and agreed readily. He pulled out his wallet and noted how much money they had at their disposal. Lamassi had given the Get Backers a small advance on their retainer to use for expenses. Ban wondered if it was enough to cover their hearty appetites. //If we run short, we could find the girls and they could put any purchases on their company credit card.//  
  
"Ginji, what are you hungry for?" Ban asked as he waited for his colleague to get ready.  
  
"Pizza, Ban-chan. With lots of pepperoni," Ginji said excitedly as the pair exited the suite in search of a delicious meal.  
  
Before eating, the two young men browsed the marketplace for mementoes of their trip to give their friends back in Shinjuku. Perusing through some jewelry, Ginji held up an amethyst necklace for Ban's opinion. "Wouldn't this be perfect for Hevn?"  
  
Ban eyed the necklace closely and remarked in a calculating tone, "Yes, it would. Maybe she'll take this and lower her commission rate on our next assignment."  
  
"We'll take it and this too," Ginji told the merchant, indicating a silver barrette they had picked out for Natsumi.  
  
"What about Paul?" Ban wondered as they continued shopping for souvenirs. At the next vendor, a matching set of ceramic beer steins caught his attention. Ginji agreed with the selection and the pair headed off to a nearby restaurant for lunch, their souvenir shopping completed.  
  
Inside the noisy restaurant where the lunch special was an all-you-could- eat buffet, the Get Backers found a table and the hungry Ginji quickly made a beeline for the buffet. The blond youth had already put some fruit salad on his plate. While reaching for a bagel, he met resistance as another hand also grabbed for the bagel. "Hey, that's mine," he said.  
  
"No, it's not. It's mine. I saw it first," whined a teen wearing a golden diadem as he tugged on the sesame seed bagel.  
  
At the table where the boy's companions were seated, a lanky redhead was laughing and flirting with the waitresses each time they passed by his seat with their hands full with lunch orders.  
  
A monocle-wearing brunette had finished fending away a pesky child, who insisted the man was actually a famous stunt car driver who was passing through town incognito. He shook his head in disbelief at the notion. "That kid's definitely from a different world with that farfetched idea," he mused. The white dragon perched on his shoulder made contented noises as its master fed it nibbles of the appetizer.  
  
Meanwhile, the boy's guardian sneered when he heard the burgeoning dispute at the buffet. "Not again," he sneered. Intending to make an example out of the disorderly youth by shooting the contested bagel from his hand, the blond slowly pulled his Smith & Wesson from a roomy sleeve of his robe.  
  
At a nearby table, Ban had sat down and had begun perusing the menu when he noticed a man getting ready to cock the hammer of a revolver. Following the gun's muzzle, the Get Backer's eyes filled with alarm to see that Ginji was in the line of fire, so Ban swiftly intervened by clamping the Snake Bite, his grip that exerts 200 kilograms of pressure, on the would-be shooter's shoulder, who turned around and snarled.  
  
Sensing that his guardian was in trouble, the hungry lad at the buffet stopped tugging on the bagel, yielding it to Ginji. Shouting the monk's name, the lad rushed to his group's table to protect his mentor. Ginji turned to see his partner confronting the man and the youngster going over to help. He screamed, "Ban-chan," as he made eye contact with the Jagan- user as he went over to even up the situation.  
  
Flapping its wings in warning, the dragon exclaimed "Kyu!" as its master stood up to intercede in the argument between the four men. "Gentlemen, can't we all get along? What are you fighting over anyway?" The brunette spoke in a calming manner.  
  
Eyes blazing with anger, Ban growled, "I wasn't gonna let this asswipe shoot my friend here," his hand gesturing in Ginji's direction.  
  
The monk spat in disgust, "Baka! I was aiming for the bagel those two morons were arguing over."  
  
Watching the scene, the flirtatious redhead guffawed, "Fighting over a bagel? I can see battling over a beautiful babe, but a bagel? That's hilarious!" He leaned back in his chair, laughing uproariously, but tilted back too far, and ended up on the floor. He was still giggling as he got up.  
  
The others saw the idiocy over brawling over a bagel. "See, saru, the waitress brought more food. You don't have to whine about being hungry," the guardian snorted, indicating the steaming plate of nachos and spicy chicken wings that had just been placed on the table by the server, who was fending off the redhead's advances as she went to check on another table of customers.  
  
The brunette suggested the Get Backers join them for lunch, which they gladly accepted, and the six spent several hours swapping stories over numerous plates of food and mugs of beer.  
  
Patting his stomach, the sated redhead remarked, "Hey, anyone know where can I find some hot babes in this town? Wanna join me, Bright Eyes?" The gigolo then downed the rest of his mug of mead.  
  
The driver felt embarrassed by his scandalous cohort and quickly changed the subject, "Ban and Ginji, it was wonderful meeting you."  
  
After the two men shook hands, Ban reached into his wallet when the waitress brought their tab, but the monk waved off Ban's offer. "Don't worry about it. I'll put it on our debit card," stated the blond as he paid the bill. [2]  
  
The Get Backers departed the restaurant and explored May City in the waning hours of daylight. They returned to the hotel to see what plans the insurance girls had for the evening.  
  
* * * * *  
  
That evening, after enjoying a delicious meal at the Senate, a cozy eatery that had been recommended to them by the hotel staff, Meryl, Milly, and the Get Backers paused in front of the Angst Theater. "A movie would be a great way to finish the day," Milly suggested, hoping that Meryl would finally agree to her request.  
  
The petite investigator sighed. The combined effects of a long bus ride, the hassles of finding lodging, and the busy happenings on their first day in May City had made her feel very fatigued. //Besides I don't think I'd be able to concentrate on any film with so much going on in my mind to enjoy it properly. Seeing Wolfwood and Blaine in the same day has thrown me for a loop.//  
  
Turning to her coworker, Meryl said wearily, "It's been a very long day. Why don't the three of you see a movie without me?"  
  
Her partner reacted with a note of concern, "Are you okay?"  
  
"A hot, soaking bath is what I need," Meryl replied.  
  
"Would you like us to walk back to the hotel with you?" Ginji asked chivalrously.  
  
"Thanks, but I can manage," the black-haired woman responded reassuringly. "If I run into any trouble, I got some backup right here," patting her purse, which contained several of her derringers.  
  
"Are you sure?" Ban said.  
  
"Yes. Now please go enjoy the movie."  
  
"We'll see you later, Meryl," called Milly as she watched her associate leave.  
  
A short time later, Meryl entered the hotel suite she shared with Milly, kicked off her boots, and sprawled on the bed. She soon mustered up enough effort to go into the bathroom to run water for her bath.  
  
The tumult of emotions she felt upon seeing Wolfwood and Blaine rekindled thoughts of Vash the Stampede. A long, luxurious soak would relax her and maybe clear her mind so she could focus on the task at hand.  
  
Closing the bathroom door, Meryl disrobed, eased into the steaming tub, and relaxed in the bubble-filled water. The stressed woman felt a pleasant reverie as the tension within her floated away like an unfettered kite on a windy day.  
  
* * * *  
  
To be continued...  
  
Author's Notes  
  
[1] Frank Marlon's appearance was inspired by dialogue from episode 19, "Goodbye for Now" between Vash and Wolfwood.  
  
[2] The Sanzo-ikkou resumed their westward journey after lunch.  
  
[3] For updates on upcoming fanfics, please check out my Live Journal at www.livejournal.com/~weisshund. 


	5. Heist

Title: Drawn to Danger [5/8]  
  
Author: Rubious  
  
Series: Trigun & Get Backers  
  
Rating: R  
  
Warnings: angst, violence, humor, gunplay, AU-OOC.  
  
Disclaimer: Trigun © Nightow. Get Backers © Aoki and Ayamine. All original characters including but not limited to Blaine, Lamassi, etc, are © Rubious and are not to be used without permission. This story is a work of fanfiction and is for entertainment purposes only.  
  
Spoilers: Contains minor spoilers for both series.  
  
Archive: fanfiction.net under "Rubious", mediaminer.org under "Rubious2", and my home page, Odango and Donuts, URL in bio info.  
  
Notes: While on assignment with Ban and Ginji of the Get Backers, Meryl and Milly are drawn into danger as they meet old friends as well as foes in May City.  
  
//thoughts//  
  
*****  
  
As the quartet met for breakfast the next morning in a small yet busy restaurant near the hotel, Meryl cautioned Ban, "No funny stuff this time," warning him not to demonstrate his Jagan again on Milly or herself. They sat down in a booth that a busboy had just finished cleaning up. After a waiter took their orders, the black-haired investigator began to leaf through the first of several files that Mr. Lamassi had shipped to her overnight, which she had picked up from the front desk on their way out to eat.  
  
"With all of these guns around, have there ever been any fatalities during this contest?" Ban inquired.  
  
Looking up from the file she had been reading, Meryl replied, "Not to my knowledge. When we conferred with the tournament organizers yesterday, they assured us that they were ready for all possibilities, including stray bullets hitting bystanders and entrants with self-inflicted wounds."  
  
Quirking a mischievous smirk, Ban commented sarcastically, "Well, that person must be a top-notch sharpshooter then to shoot yourself in the foot." The remark elicited chuckles from the others.  
  
Waiting for the server to bring them some hot coffee, Milly innocently asked Ginji, who was seated across from her, "Do you have special abilities like Ban?"  
  
The blond teen smiled and turned to his partner, who smirked. "Yes, I do. Would you like a demonstration?" Ginji said playfully.  
  
Milly chirped happily, "Could you please? That'd be so cool to see." She paused, glanced over at her associate, who was immersed in paperwork, and asked, "Wouldn't you agree, Meryl?"  
  
Looking up from the files, the preoccupied woman answered absently, "Yeah. Fine."  
  
Ginji took out a small light bulb from one of the pockets in his green vest and held it in front of him as he started to explain, "I have the ability to control electricity. Watch." The inch-long bulb that would normally be used to power a nightlight softly glowed in his hand. Milly stared wide- eyed and open-mouthed in amazement at the display.  
  
Having seen Ginji perform the "party trick" on numerous occasions, Ban snickered at the people's fascinated expression at seeing the bulb "magically" light up without being plugged into an electrical outlet. //At least he's not a sideshow like that weird bald guy on an old sitcom who stuck a light bulb in his mouth and made it light up.//  
  
In a thoughtful voice, Ban explained, "Back home there are a few people with unique skills, but they tend to stay out of the spotlight."  
  
Milly replied, "We've ran across people like that, too. They always seemed to be after Mr. Vash for some reason. It was our job to keep him out of trouble. Meryl, do you remember..." Her words trailed off when she noticed that her partner was engrossed in a file. "Never mind. I see you're busy."  
  
Hearing Milly's hurt tone, Meryl apologized, "I'm sorry. I was caught up in these files that the boss wanted me to look over."  
  
Raising an eyebrow, Ban questioned, "Couldn't you wait until after breakfast?" At that moment, the waiter brought their orders of scrambled eggs, pancakes, and buttered toast.  
  
The investigator replied in a resigned tone, "Yes, you're right, but soon as we're finished eating, Milly and I will head to the hotel's conference room and work on these files."  
  
"What about us?" Ginji asked, wondering what the insurance girls wanted the Get Backers to do.  
  
"Stand by until you're needed," she said abruptly. //Did the boss expect us to be joined at the hip to these guys?// As Meryl stared into her coffee cup, she wished time would pass more quickly.  
  
Showing his displeasure by drumming his fingers on the table, Ban groused, "Well, I don't want to sit around on my butt all day doing nothing!" Although outwardly he frowned, the Get Backer inwardly didn't mind the inactivity because it was financially worthwhile. //How often do you get paid for twiddling your thumbs?//  
  
Milly leaned over and whispered something to her roommate, who nodded her assent. "While we're busy, maybe you two could possibly help out an old friend of ours?" she suggested sweetly.  
  
Ginji agreed since it was his inherent nature to help those in need. Ban asked, "Who is it and where can we find this person?"  
  
The brunette replied. "I'll find Mr. Priest and he'll meet you in the hotel lobby."  
  
The blond smiled, "Ban-chan, we'll be helping out a church today."  
  
Shrugging, Ban replied, "I don't think that's what they have in mind."  
  
Suppressing a giggle, Meryl rolled her eyes. //Ginji does seem more and more like a male version of Milly.// She finished her coffee, looked at the bill the waiter had brought them earlier, and took out some money for a tip. "Shall we go?" the insurance girl inquired.  
  
Milly went ahead to find Wolfwood in order to arrange a meeting with Ban and Ginji. She rejoined the group in the hotel lobby where the two women adjourned to a conference room that would serve as their temporary office. After taping a piece of paper on the door that read "Bernardelli Insurance Society", Meryl placed the files in two stacks on the long conference table to begin the time-consuming task of reexamining cases while Milly started up the coffeemaker.  
  
As the coffee started to brew, the brunette asked her studious colleague, "Why'd the chief send those files to us?"  
  
Glancing up from a folder, the senior investigator replied, "Lamassi thought by looking over past claims that there might be a common thread linking them and possibly identify a target in May City."  
  
Milly pondered her answer for a moment and then offered, "We're in the middle of a Quick Draw Tournament. Nearly everyone is walking around with guns and could be a potential target. We can't guard everybody."  
  
Her partner concurred, "I'm sure he has his reasons, but let's do our best." She thanked Milly for the cup of coffee and returned to sorting through the papers piled before her.  
  
* * * *  
  
Sitting on a couch in the hotel lobby, the Get Backers spent the time trying to surmise the identity of the mysterious Mr. Priest who would be meeting with them soon.  
  
From a secluded corner of the lobby, Wolfwood regarded the two young men with a keen eye. //Those are the same two guys I saw meeting with the girls when they arrived. Well, I'm doing this as a favor for Milly. I think she'll owe me a pack of smokes for doing this.// After taking a drag on his cigarette, he noted that the Get Backers were about ten years younger than himself. They weren't behaving like punks, but they exhibited an air of cockiness, especially the dark-haired one. The blond seemed to have a happy- go-lucky manner like a certain legendary outlaw. With a ponderous smile, the preacher mused about the upcoming meeting. Those two should be able to get the job done, but if the girls asked for his assistance, he'd gladly lend a hand.  
  
The black-haired preacher made his way across the lobby to where the Get Backers were sitting. Leaning the Cross-Punisher against the sofa, Wolfwood greeted a surprised Ginji, "Hello. Are you the Get Backers? Milly Thompson asked me to meet with you."  
  
"Mr. Priest?" Ginji's tongue stumbled over his words. Meanwhile, Ban peered from behind his glasses, studying the newcomer carefully.  
  
"Actually, I'm Nicholas D. Wolfwood. Mr. Priest is a nickname." Seeing Ginji's confused expression, the preacher continued, "Were you expecting someone else?"  
  
Ginji stammered, "Um...no."  
  
Interjecting himself into the conversation, Ban said, "We are the Get Backers. I'm Ban Mido and he's Ginji Amano. The girls mentioned you'd spend some time with us."  
  
"Ah, the girls," Wolfwood remarked fondly. "Why don't we head over to the bar and talk there? We should probably let Meryl and Milly know where we'll be in case they need us for anything." After agreeing with his suggestion, the trio stopped by the temporary office to inform the two women of their plans.  
  
The hotel bar featured a dimly lit atmosphere with lighting provided from sconces mounted on the butterscotch-colored walls above an oak wainscoting that surrounded the room. A few customers, huddled over their drinks, sat at the bar, upon which a black cat was sleeping, while the bartender stood attentively polishing glasses.  
  
After sitting down at an empty table, Wolfwood placed the Cross-Punisher on the floor, within easy reach lest it was needed. A comely waitress approached them and asked, "Would you gentlemen like to order anything?"  
  
Glancing at his watch, the preacher commented, "I'll have some coffee. How 'bout you guys?" Though it was only late morning, Wolfwood would have preferred a cold beer, //Perhaps I could talk them into having some brews later. Besides java goes better with smokes anyway.//  
  
Ban spoke up immediately, "I'll have coffee, too."  
  
Ginji added, "Raspberry iced tea for me, please."  
  
The waitress returned a few minutes later with the coffee and tea, but in her haste, knocked over the glass of iced raspberry herbal tea, spilling it on Ban's white shirt. She apologized profusely, "I'm so sorry. It's my first day on the job and I've already screwed up. Let me get some napkins to wipe that up."  
  
The Jagan-user glared at her briefly, but quickly softened his expression when she returned with a pile of napkins and a roll of paper towel, which she used to mop up the spill. Ban dabbed at the spot on his shirt. "Did it come out?" asked a concerned Ginji, who knew that his partner wouldn't want one of his favorite shirts ruined.  
  
"Yeah, I got it before it'd leave a permanent stain."  
  
"Be glad it wasn't something that'd leave an indelible mark like blood or ink would," Wolfwood commented, and feeling an urge for nicotine, added, "Do you mind if I smoke?"  
  
Hearing no objection, Wolfwood took out a cigarette from the pack in his suit pocket. Seeing that, Ban felt in his shirt pocket for his own cigarettes. Frowning, he muttered, "Damn, I'm out of smokes."  
  
Leaning forward, the blue-eyed preacher offered one of his own, which Ban graciously accepted. "Need a light?" The Get Backer declined, igniting the cigarette with his silver lighter etched with the initials "KY", a keepsake from a former colleague.  
  
"Mr. Priest, I mean, Wolfwood..." Ginji began cautiously, "you're certainly not what I expected. I've never met a priest who drinks, smokes, and carries a huge cross." Ban smirked, thinking of the similar behavior of the ill-mannered monk he almost had a confrontation with the day before.  
  
Wolfwood chortled at the teen's misconception. "Well, I can assure you that I am a man of the cloth. Most of the time I'm out collecting donations for an orphanage."  
  
Ginji's face brightened upon hearing of the priest's charitable work, but Ban's concentration was focused on the cloth-wrapped arsenal on the floor. "What's in that thing?" he asked.  
  
Looking straight at Ban with a mysterious smile, Wolfwood quipped, "It's filled with mercy," and then chuckled. Over the next few hours, the three men regaled each other with stories of past adventures.  
  
* * * *  
  
Brilliant Dynamites Neon stepped out of the cab of the truck as the Bad Lads piled out of the storage bed. Surveying the Shooters Service warehouse, which was situated on the outskirts of May City and was the next target for the Bad Lads, he directed his men to move out according to their plan. One person would remain outside to be a lookout while Neon would supervise the theft.  
  
Peering into a window, a Bad Lad said, "Boss, it's all clear," observing the empty interior of the building where crates were stacked in orderly piles  
  
"Good," the leader said, leaning against the truck, his ebony eyes keeping a steely gaze on the operation. The client has assured him the alarm system would be deactivated and the warehouse would be unoccupied since the Shooters Service staff was out making deliveries to customers who were competing in the tournament. //This should be a piece of cake. I can look forward to a big payday and then celebrate with a lovely lady.//  
  
A bank of dark clouds passed overhead, accompanied by a rising breeze, obscuring the double suns and cooling the hot afternoon. Tilting his Stetson back so he could gaze skyward to observe the changing weather, Neon was distracted by a loud curse.  
  
A Bad Lad had jimmied open the loading bay door, stepped inside, and immediately there was a loud buzzing noise. Minutes later, a klaxon blared loudly. The intruder had set off a motion alarm and screamed, "Fuck!" in disgust. The men stopped in their tracks and looked towards Neon for guidance.  
  
Disappointment crossed the large outlaw's face. "Shit!" he muttered. //Bastard! He double-crossed us. To hell with him, we'll just take all the stuff for ourselves.//Heading towards the building, he shouted, "Grab as much as you can and throw it in the truck. Let's clean this place out before the sheriff comes."  
  
Time favored the Bad Lads since the warehouse was located on the town's outskirts and it would take precious minutes for anyone to respond to the alarm. The cacophony of practice rounds from the shooting range drowned out the klaxon.  
  
Several Bad Lads scrambled into the building to continue the plundering of the weapons and ammunition inside as Neon oversaw the operation.  
  
* * *  
  
Inside the temporary office they had set up in the hotel's conference room, Meryl and Milly pored over claims reports involving stolen firearms. Scanning one claim, she notices it was from a claimant whose business was looted after the Augusta disaster, which made Meryl recall the expression on Vash's face when his Angel Arm fired, that would be forever imprinted on her mind. "Vash, where are you?" she said in a low voice.  
  
Chastising herself for being distracted by thoughts of the Humanoid Typhoon, Meryl set the file aside into a stack that had no relevance to the recent string of thefts, figuring it was a result of the chaos in the aftermath of the catastrophe. The next file was for a claim from a theft in Inepril three months ago. Looking closely at the name of the claimant, she gasped upon reading the name of Deke Blaine. "Deke? I didn't know he owned a gun shop," she said in a surprised voice.  
  
"Are you okay?" Milly asked.  
  
"Just surprised to find out that the man I met yesterday owned a gun shop and had filed a stolen property claim three months ago." Forcing herself to concentrate on the task, she wouldn't be swayed by thoughts of her former instructor either.  
  
A rapid knocking on the door interrupted her concentration. "Come in," Meryl called out.  
  
An out of breath bellhop stood in the doorway holding a message. "Ms. Stryfe, you have an urgent message at the front desk," he panted.  
  
The investigators rushed out to the lobby where Meryl was handed the telephone at the front desk. "Yes, we'll be right on it!" she said and hung up the phone. "That was the home office. They forwarded the message from the security company that the alarm at Shooters Service in town has been set off. It's time for the guys to earn their money."  
  
They found Ban and Ginji in the hotel bar with Wolfwood laughing and swapping stories. "Guys, there's a robbery in progress at Shooters Service. Get over there and recover any stolen goods that you can," Meryl directed.  
  
The Get Backers stood up and headed out to their car. Grinning, Ban remarked eagerly, "Hey, now we get to do our job."  
  
Grabbing the Cross-Punisher, the preacher followed the two teens outside. Ginji turned around and asked, "Why are you coming?"  
  
His blue eyes twinkling, Wolfwood replied with a smile, "It's what I do." The trio jumped into the Subaru, the cloth-wrapped cross sticking out of the open sunroof. Ban floored the accelerator and drove madly across town to where unknown dangers awaited.  
  
*****  
  
To be continued...  
  
Author's Note  
  
[1] For news on upcoming fanfics, please check out my Live Journal at www.livejournal.com/~weisshund. 


	6. Confrontation

Title: Drawn to Danger [6/8]  
  
Author: Rubious  
  
Series: Trigun & Get Backers  
  
Rating: R  
  
Warnings: angst, violence, humor, gunplay, AU-OOC.  
  
Disclaimer: Trigun © Nightow. Get Backers © Aoki and Ayamine. All original characters including but not limited to Blaine, Lamassi, etc, are © Rubious and are not to be used without permission. This story is a work of fanfiction and is for entertainment purposes only.  
  
Spoilers: Contains minor spoilers for both series.  
  
Archive: fanfiction.net under "Rubious", mediaminer.org under "Rubious2", and my home page, Odango and Donuts, URL in bio info.  
  
Notes: While on assignment with Ban and Ginji of the Get Backers, Meryl and Milly are drawn into danger as they meet old friends as well as foes in May City.  
  
//thoughts//  
  
* * * * *  
  
The white Subaru 360 sped through the unpaved streets of May City, kicking up clouds of dust in its wake as Ban floored the accelerator. In the backseat, Wolfwood removed his shades and put them in his jacket pocket. "I won't be needing these. Look at the sky."  
  
Ginji glanced up at the growing mass of clouds that were scudding across the formerly clear sky. A sense of unease filled his mind, but he felt a gentle reassurance in the teamwork he had with Ban and a growing camaraderie with the cross-toting preacher. "Go faster, Ban-chan," he exhorted.  
  
Ban grunted and silently urged more speed from the car's engine. "Are we almost there?" he asked his colleague, who was studying the map of May City.  
  
"It's around the next corner," Ginji answered.  
  
As their car made a right turn, Ban saw a man of imposing size supervising several other men who were carrying crates from the Shooters Service warehouse and loading them onto a truck. "We came in time to stop them," he remarked. After the Subaru skidded to a stop, the trio disembarked to disrupt the robbery in progress.  
  
Turning to his companions, Ban asked, "Ready?"  
  
Ginji smiled and replied, "Yeah."  
  
Wolfwood grinned as he unloosened the straps on his cloth-wrapped arsenal. "Locked, loaded, and ready to rock and roll," the preacher added.  
  
From the roof of the warehouse across the street, a young outlaw who had been posted as a lookout shouted alarmingly, "Boss, we've got company!"  
  
Brilliant Dynamites Neon frowned upon hearing the exclamation. "How many are there?" he yelled back to the lookout.  
  
"Three guys in a white car headed your way. One of 'em is carrying a big cross."  
  
"Shit!" BDN muttered in disgust. "Let's go, boys. Pack up that truck before the law comes." The leader of the Bad Lads barked out orders as the men quickened their pace to finish the heist. The back of the truck was halfway filled with crates of ammunition and firearms.  
  
Turning towards the direction of the intruders who were slowly striding towards him, Neon tried to discern their identities. His eyes squinted to get a better view; the overcast sky eliminated any glare. Studying them, he regarded the man carrying the large cross to be the most dangerous //If that's who I think it is, he's the one who was traveling around with Vash the Stampede when Augusta was destroyed.// As for the other two men, he surmised they were young punks hired to make a quick double-dollar, dismissing them as potential flies in the ointment.  
  
As they neared the warehouse, Wolfwood glanced over to the Get Backers and inquired, "So do you guys have a plan?"  
  
Ban shrugged and looked over to Ginji, who shook his head. "We'll just go in there and retrieve the stolen guns, right, Ban-chan?"  
  
The Jagan-user smiled cockily, "Or something like that."  
  
The preacher grumbled at the haphazard planning. "We'll play it by ear. I've heard quite a bit about that big dude over there. It's gonna take a helluva lot to take him down. Just follow my lead," he said cautiously.  
  
"Their leader looks like that scary guy who keeps popping up again and again," Ginji observed, comparing him to a bodyguard the Get Backers had repeatedly battled on several missions.  
  
While thunder rumbled in the distance, the increasing gusts scattered trash and debris about as the retrieval team approached the Shooters Service warehouse. If they had been backlit by spotlights, they would have made a dramatic entrance as they strode purposefully like gunslingers readying for a duel at high noon. Members of the Bad Lads continued the orderly plundering of the warehouse while their leader scrutinized the new arrivals, uncertain of their intentions.  
  
Calmly smoking a cigarette, Wolfwood strolled to within ten feet of the tall outlaw. "Well, well, well, if it isn't Brilliant Dynamites Neon," he remarked sarcastically as he dismissively tossed away the spent cigarette butt.  
  
"Who might you be?" Neon responded, the pretentiousness radiating from him like an aura. His brown eyes narrowed and his expression hardened.  
  
"I'm Nicholas D. Wolfwood and these two are the Get Backers," he answered, indicating Ban and Ginji who flanked him. "We're here to make sure that no more kids become orphans because of those stolen guns."  
  
Before Neon could react, the arrogant Get Backer interjected. "Our client has hired us to retrieve the stolen weapons from the warehouse."  
  
Hearing this, the lead thief clenched his fists, fury building within him. He wrongly concluded that his client had hired the Get Backers to take back the stolen property; thereby cutting the Bad Lads out of any potential proceeds from their sale. "That double-crossing bastard! He's trying to break our deal and screw us out of our money!" he railed.  
  
Wolfwood took note of the incensed man's rant. //So somebody is behind this. The girls will certainly want to hear that little tidbit.//  
  
As two Bad Lads loaded the truck with another munitions-filled crate from the warehouse, one said to his companion, "I've got a bad feeling about this." The other robber nodded in agreement.  
  
Hoping to make the best of the standoff, Neon offered a compromise, "Gentlemen, can we settle this peacefully? Would you like a piece of the action? Maybe we can split the money 50-50 if you let us keep all of the guns?"  
  
Though the bribe was very tempting, Ban steadfastly refused, "All or nothing." Ginji looked at his partner questioningly, but he had faith that this was the proper response.  
  
Neon felt a growing tension in the air and warned his men; several had their hands poised on their holsters. "Everyone hold their fire. If anyone shoots, I'll deal with them personally.  
  
On the rooftop across the street, the young lookout didn't hear the order.  
  
The little punk had joined the gang a few months before, but had been relegated to minor roles such as being lookout and doing menial chores around their hideout in Lotenburg Canyon because of his scrawny build, pimply face, and unhygienic habits. Feeling nervous, his palms were sweaty as he gripped the revolver and aimed it at the intruders.  
  
"Boss is gonna be so proud of me because I protected him from those guys," he muttered excitedly. The gun recoiled when he fired, jerking his arm, causing the round to end up kicking up dirt at Wolfwood's feet.  
  
"Now I don't appreciate being shot at," Wolfwood remarked, hefting the Cross-Punisher to his shoulder, the cloth covering falling to the ground. He pointed the vertical base at the rooftop from where the bullet had been fired. After pulling the trigger, a rocket-propelled grenade was launched where it exploded against a chimney on the rooftop. Bricks cascaded from the demolished chimney, one of which struck the inexperienced gunman who had been leaning over the edge to watch the scene below transpire, sending him plummeting to the ground with a thud. He was knocked unconscious by the impact.  
  
Upon seeing their downed comrade, the Bad Lads felt an initial shock that lasted several moments, but then they retaliated by opening fire on Wolfwood. The priest hurriedly shoved the Get Backers to safety as the trio took shelter behind a stack of wooden pallets. Bullets pinged off a forklift that was to the right of the pallets. The blue-eyed marksman stated bluntly, "If you two have any guns, now's the time to use them."  
  
Ginji smiled and replied proudly, "We've never had the need to use guns."  
  
Ban added with a smirk, "You'll see why very shortly."  
  
Shrugging his shoulders, Wolfwood said, "Whatever" and opened the horizontal arms of the Cross-Punisher to reveal a dozen handguns. He fired several rounds from two pistols rapidly with uncanny accuracy, knocking the guns from the hands of three of the bandits, who were left stunned.  
  
At this time, the Bad Lads in the warehouse stood in the open loading bay, but were hesitant to join in the firefight because their leader stood between them and the intruders. If they went against Neon's orders, their punishment would be swift and painful.  
  
While Wolfwood exchanged fire with the bandits, the Get Backers hastily conferred on the best course of action in dealing with Neon. Their opponent would have intimidated any ordinary person, but the two teens had faced tougher challenges in Mugenjo. Standing 6-6" tall, Neon had brown hair and brown eyes and a muscular physique. But the man's most dominating features were the two large dynamos attached to his shoulders.  
  
Garish amounts of yellow neon trimmed his jacket, sleeves, pants, and even his hat. The outlaw would have found himself at home on the Las Vegas Strip with its entire dazzling splendor. Like the magpie, he shared a predilection for sparkling objects.  
  
"He's got enough neon on his body to light up Shinjuku," Ginji commented.  
  
The pair decided that disabling the dynamos were the key to overcoming the outlaw. Ban figured he could use the Jagan to distract Neon while Ginji would use his electrical attack to overload the dynamos and destroy them. Wolfwood's covering fire would prevent any interference from the Bad Lads.  
  
Ban motioned to Wolfwood to continue to keep the Bad Lads occupied while they made their move against the outlaw. "God's supposed to protect children, drunks, and fools. Well, Lord, I hope you're watching over those two fools," Wolfwood said as the Get Backers stood up to put their plan into action.  
  
* * *  
  
Blocks away in an office, a man had finished installing software on the company's computer network and was about to take his afternoon break when he asked a female coworker, "Hey, isn't it strange to hear all those gunshots around here?"  
  
"Yes, it is. The tournament's on the other side of town," the woman replied. She paused for a moment and then added, "Is that an alarm going off?"  
  
"I hope it's not somebody's annoying car alarm."  
  
"It sounds more like a fire alarm," she said. Curious to find out what was happening, she inquired, "Do you want to see what's going on?"  
  
"Sure. It'll certainly add a little excitement around here. Besides, it's time I took my break," the man rationalized as he headed out of the office with his coworker.  
  
Outside, they joined a crowd of people, most of whom were visitors attending the tournament and were checking out different areas of May City, headed towards the source of the noises. They stood silent, enthralled by the unfolding events.  
  
* * *  
  
As the retrieval agents emerged from behind the pallets to confront the outlaw, Brilliant Dynamites Neon sensed an unusual aura surrounding the blond Get Backer. "I like the way you sparkle—very impressive. I'm sure you'll be a worthy opponent."  
  
Ginji whispered to Ban, "Do I sparkle?"  
  
"Only your eyes," replied his partner, winking.  
  
Neon waited for them to make their move. "Two against one—that's not a fair fight," he said mockingly, noting that the pair didn't appear to be intimidated one bit or easily goaded into acting impulsively against him.  
  
Focusing on the outlaw leader, Ban adjusted his blue-tinted glasses and concentrated to apply the Jagan against the unwary opponent. As the one- minute length the Evil Eye was in effect began and his thoughts were focused on Neon, he didn't hear the rifle shot whizzing towards him, which he would have easily evaded with his quick reflexes.  
  
The bullet tore through his leg, barely nicking the femoral artery as a scarlet stain rapidly blossomed across the ripped fabric of Ban's black pants. Struggling against unconsciousness, the Jagan-user collapsed to the ground like a fallen house of cards.  
  
"BAN-CHAN!" shrieked Ginji as he gaped in horror at the sight of his partner lying helplessly in the dirt, his guttural moan resounding like specters haunting a graveyard on a foggy night. The shocked teen realized he had to act quickly to save Ban's life by stopping the bleeding. He tore shreds of cloth from the long tails of Ban's shirt and tied the makeshift tourniquet tightly around the leg to stem the loss of blood.  
  
Ginji spoke reassuringly, "Everything will be all right," and was especially thankful that Neon was feeling the full effects of the Jagan. If the outlaw hadn't, the Get Backers would have been dead since Neon would most likely have drawn his sidearm and gunned them down.  
  
Grimacing as he fought the waves of pain coursing through him, Ban muttered through clenched teeth, "Don't worry. It's only a flesh wound," before succumbing to unconsciousness.  
  
The blond carefully picked up his partner and carried him to safety where a group of curious onlookers had gathered. Before laying Ban on the ground, he whispered, "I'm sorry for what I'm going to do to those that hurt you. Forgive me." After gently setting his partner down on the ground before the worried crowd, Ginji anxiously told a woman, "Somebody please call an ambulance. Watch over Ban-chan for me." Looking back towards the neon- trimmed bandit, the electric teen's often-warm brown eyes narrowed as he said coldly, "Those guys hurt my partner. They'll find out the shocking truth of messing with the Get Backers."  
  
The retriever was determined to complete their mission and also exact justice on the ones who had injured his partner.  
  
Glancing at his watch and seeing the Jagan's sixty-second effect was almost up, Ginji dashed back to finish off the confrontation with the Bad Lads' leader. Sparks emanated from Ginji's body as he began powering up to lash out at the powerful outlaw.  
  
While Wolfwood was exchanging fire with several members of the Bad Lads, he glimpsed in his peripheral vision Ban getting wounded and crumpling to the ground. "Fuck! The kid got hit!" Cursing, he knew he had to take decisive action to protect his associates. In the course of a few short hours, the preacher had developed a fond respect for the two teens, especially Ban Mido, whose attitude reminded Wolfwood of himself when he was their age.  
  
Thoughts swirled through the preacher's mind as he raised the Cross- Punisher, its horizontal base pointed towards the bandits. Flicking a switch, a trigger shifted down against the crossbar, which acted as the weapon's stock; a machine gun barrel emerged from the base. Pulling the trigger, the vengeful Wolfwood sprayed a ruthless fusillade of bullets. "Taste lead, you bastards," he sneered.  
  
The withering fire directed at the Bad Lads, who were busy celebrating the lucky shot that had downed one of their foes, hit its mark with incredible accuracy. The surprised gang members were shocked as their handguns were knocked from their grasps and they were driven to seek cover behind the truck One unlucky bandit was a tad slow and was clipped in the knee by a bullet. The wounded man flailed about and stumbled into a pile of unevenly stacked boxes, which tumbled down upon him. His comrades didn't dare leave their haven lest the marksman would easily pick them off.  
  
A satisfied grin on his visage, Wolfwood fired staccato bursts at the Bad Lads to keep them pinned down. Turning his head, he glanced over to see an irate Ginji advancing towards the immobile Neon, seemingly entranced. //Holy shit! I never expected those kids to be so powerful. Appearances can be quite deceiving, but why the hell isn't Neon shooting at Ginji?//  
  
"He's a sitting duck out there in the open. I gotta cover his backside," The sharpshooting minister muttered while he slowly edged his way towards Ginji; the fusillade from the Cross-Punisher kept the Bad Lads pinned down.  
  
As thunder boomed ominously and lightning flashed in the distance, a light rain began to fall on the streets of May City. To Brilliant Dynamites Neon, the rain was insignificant because he was in the throes of experiencing a nightmarish vision that was the result of being subjected to the Jagan cast by the arrogant teen. He didn't notice the Jagan-user fall victim to a shot fired by one of his subordinates.  
  
Struggling in vain to keep a grip on reality, the outlaw succumbed to the spell's mind-boggling effects. To celebrate the Day of Honor, the community held a public sacrifice, their edict being that an honorable death for one fortunate soul would yield another year of wealth and honor for the village. This year was Neon's opportunity to assume the task of public executioner. Adorned in neon-trimmed regalia, he beamed at the prospect of being in the spotlight for this festive occasion.  
  
On this particular day, the sacrificial "victim" would be hung from a gallows erected in the village square. The event had turned into a spectacle with residents bringing picnic lunches and children scampering about. Neon looked at the festive crowd, reveling in the moment that soon all their attention would be focused on the hangman as he released the switch to open the trap door jerking the noosed man downwards.  
  
Members of the village council led a lanky man, his hands bound behind him, up the scaffold's stairs to the gallows. For a brief moment before a hood was placed over his head, the spiky-haired blond in the red duster stared at the hangman. The condemned's calm expression belied the resigned acceptance of his inevitable fate, but in the few seconds of eye contact, something struck a chord within the resplendent executioner that made him balk at completing his duties.  
  
"Is it honorable to kill a man to ensure prosperity?" he asked aloud. His comment was received with catcalls and jeers.  
  
"What's the hang-up?" someone heckled, throwing a rotten tomato that splattered over the reluctant hangman's natty attire.  
  
The leader of the village elders approached Neon and placed a revolver next to his temple. Gesturing to the sacrifice, the elder explained, "He volunteered for the ceremony. The only person against it is you"  
  
"I can't accept taking the life of an innocent person," the unwilling Neon replied.  
  
"Would you like to take his place then?" the elder retorted sharply. Removing five bullets from the cylinder of the revolver, the village leader spun the cylinder and then closed it. Speaking in a threatening voice, he told Neon, "Today is a good day to die. In these six chambers, one holds a bullet. I don't know which chamber it's in. For every ten seconds you delay the ceremony, I'll pull the trigger. Shall we play Gunsmoke roulette?"  
  
Turning towards the rambunctious crowd, who had hurled more rotting fruit and trash at the scaffold to express their displeasure at the delay, the leader catered to the audience, "Would you like to have two hangings for the price of one? Next year should be twice as nice!" The crowd roared their approval.  
  
Neon gulped air when he felt the elder press the handgun next to his temple. He held to his resolve of not killing a defenseless person. Click went the sound of the chamber advancing. Another ten seconds elapsed as Neon refused to perform his duties. Click went the cylinder.  
  
His pulse racing, the bandit leader felt a cold sweat trickling down his cheek as he blinked to clear his blurry eyesight. Pondering the vision, Neon realized he didn't grow up in a village that celebrated honor rather than the upbringing he experienced on the rough-and-tumble streets of his childhood as his parents drifted from town to town to eke out a meager living. One fateful day, the young Neon was left behind to fend for himself, eventually becoming infamous outlaw leader of the Bad Lads. [1]  
  
The electrified atmosphere made the hair on the nape of his neck stand up, forcing his attention back to the angry young man standing before him.  
  
"Did you have a nice dream?" snarled Ginji, reciting the favorite catch phrase that his partner used in these situations.  
  
Neon had badly underestimated the two young adversaries. If the one had to power to cause nightmares, what could the other do? He wouldn't have to wait long to find out.  
  
Generating a tremendous amount of electricity, Ginji crossed his arms in front of his chest; sparks flew from his fingerless glove-encased hands. The teen was exhibiting the awesome power that had manifested within him growing up in Mugenjo that had propelled him to rule Lower Town with the aid of the trusted Four Kings of Volts until the fateful day he encountered Ban Mido that changed his life forever.  
  
Tendrils of white-hot electricity arced from his body towards the outlaw leader, who stood mesmerized by the blinding display. Onlookers gasped in wonderment at the huge amount of energy emitted by the electric youth.  
  
The electricity struck Neon with the force of a lightning bolt, knocking the massive man off of his feet and against two of his men who had ventured forth from the safety of the warehouse to help their leader.  
  
That decision proved to be almost fatal when Ginji launched another bolt, more intense than its predecessor, towards the bandits, who were tending to Neon. The blast passed through them with the voltage of a live wire, the entrance and exit wounds from the current visible on their smoldering flesh; a sickening stench filled the air. While they lay unconscious, sprawled over the outlaw, one of the dynamos mounted on Neon's shoulders was torn off and exploded.  
  
The resulting destruction from the blast shattered every window in the vicinity, sending the Bad Lads who weren't wounded fleeing for their lives. Shards of glass and shrapnel were scattered in every direction, striking one bystander in the eye and injuring several gang members. Recently arrived medical personnel treated the injured.  
  
Minutes passed as the outlaw pondered what had just occurred. His clothes tattered, his skin slightly charred, Neon swore that he was in the fiery realm of Hell. "That wasn't an honorable way to die," he murmured, as he slowly opened his eyes to see the two bodies in a macabre heap next to him.  
  
In the attack's aftermath, Wolfwood glanced around the area outside of the warehouse. It looked as if a powerful typhoon, and not the Humanoid Typhoon, had ripped through a marketplace, destroying everything in its path. //That innocent looking kid caused all this destruction? I really underestimated him.//  
  
When Wolfwood reached Ginji's side, their collision jarred the Get Backer. "Sorry about that. Are you feeling okay?" he inquired in a concerned voice. Pointing towards Neon, he added, "It looks like you slaughtered those guys with that electric attack."  
  
Even when he was in Raitei-mode, life was sacred to Ginji Amano. The thought of ending someone's life, be it friend of foe, horrified him. Staring at the vanquished bandits, his steely gaze softened when he saw Neon slightly stir. The coldness vanished from his voice as he replied, "I'm fine. It's a relief to see nobody was killed. Excuse me, but I have to see Ban-chan."  
  
The preacher watched Ginji hurry off to check on his wounded partner. There was still an important matter at hand to deal with. Though the remnants of the Bad Lads had fled the scene, their dangerous leader remained, incapacitated from the effects of the battle. After Wolfwood bent down to remove the portable church-shaped donation box from the Cross-Punisher, he approached the dazed outlaw purposefully. Pointing the machine gun muzzle into the bandit's face, the preacher spoke bluntly, "So, Neon, would you like to make a confession right now?"  
  
In his befuddled state, Neon wasn't going to engage in a philosophical debate over what was the honorable route to take. Deducing that the client wasn't a man of principles from his double-crossing actions, the Bad Lad leader reasoned it'd be honorable to disclose the identity of the scheme's mastermind.  
  
"Come on, who's behind this operation," Wolfwood demanded impatiently. "The sooner you tell me, the quicker we can get you to the docs."  
  
Eyes fluttering open, Neon mumbled, "Blaine," before slipping into unconsciousness.  
  
Armed with the vital information, Wolfwood departed hastily for the City Hotel to meet with the insurance investigators.  
  
* * * * *  
  
To be continued  
  
[1] Since Brilliant Dynamites Neon's origin has not been disclosed in the manga or anime, I envisioned a possible background for the flashy outlaw.)  
  
[2] For news on upcoming fanfics, check out my Live Journal at www.livejournal.com/~weisshund. 


	7. Dilemma

Title: Drawn to Danger [7/8]  
  
Author: Rubious  
  
Series: Trigun & Get Backers  
  
Rating: R  
  
Warnings: angst, violence, humor, gunplay, AU-OOC.  
  
Disclaimer: Trigun © Nightow. Get Backers © Aoki and Ayamine. All original characters including but not limited to Blaine, Lamassi, etc, are © Rubious and are not to be used without permission. This story is a work of fanfiction and is for entertainment purposes only.  
  
Spoilers: Contains minor spoilers for both series.  
  
Archive: fanfiction.net under "Rubious", mediaminer.org under "Rubious2", and my home page, Odango and Donuts, URL in bio info.  
  
Notes: While on assignment with Ban and Ginji of the Get Backers, Meryl and Milly are drawn into danger as they meet old friends as well as foes in May City.  
  
//thoughts//  
  
* * * * *  
  
As the two investigators resumed their task with a newfound urgency to detect a common bond among the myriad of reports, Milly paused and said quietly with concern in her voice, "I hope the guys catch whoever's responsible and that nobody ends up getting hurt."  
  
To allay her associate's fears, Meryl replied pragmatically, "Don't worry. I'm sure they'll nab the robbers without any problem. Otherwise, Mr. Lamassi wouldn't have hired them for this job. Plus, Wolfwood's with them. We both know what he's capable of."  
  
The brunette smiled at Meryl's reassuring words and got up to refill their mugs with hot coffee. Sitting back down, Milly picked up a file and briefly scanned it "Dunn Hill had a large cache of guns stolen from his business five months ago," she summarized.  
  
Scribbling down names on a pad, her partner reasoned, "I think we can rule out small claims from homeowners and just concentrate on businesses and collectors." Separating the files to those criteria yielded a concise list, which she then planned to fax to the home office to see if they could provide any further information on the listed names.  
  
She furrowed her brow as she stared at the sheet of paper, deep in thought. Reciting the names aloud, she found something oddly familiar about them. Dunn Hill was a town Deke Blaine had grown up in. Bo Fortune was similar to the name of a particular cologne that was favored by older men. Meryl smiled faintly as she recalled the memory of the masculine scent of Blaine as he taught her to shoot years before.  
  
Shuffling the papers into an orderly stack, Milly glanced at a notation on the report on the top of the pile. "This is really interesting, Meryl. The stolen weapons from the Little Jersey robbery were linked to the massacre at the school where my sister taught. She was wounded in that attack. I definitely want to see the criminals who provided the guns caught and brought to justice for her sake."  
  
"You haven't really talked about her lately. Is she doing better?" Meryl asked in a caring voice.  
  
"She's back teaching, but the whole thing really traumatized her," the brunette answered.  
  
Looking at her partner over tented fingers, the senior investigator hypothesized that there might be something more than just these robberies, which probably could be traced to a slew of other crimes. "You know, Milly, these are probably just the tip of the iceberg," Meryl said speculatively.  
  
Staring at the list again, Meryl conjectured that most of the names were pseudonyms. They seemed to be connected to Deke Blaine in various ways, therefore, she reasoned that Blaine had submitted the claims using different aliases. Jumping up, she grabbed Milly and exclaimed, "Blaine's the man behind this! We gotta track him down before he tries to leave town!"  
  
After furiously jotting down a note, Meryl hustled over to the hotel's front desk and had them fax the urgent message to the Bernardelli home office in December. Milly had gone to their suite to retrieve their weapons and coats before joining her in the lobby. The two women arranged for a hotel employee to drive them over to the Shooters Service warehouse across town.  
  
* * *  
  
While medical personnel tended to Ban's wounds in the rain and prepared to load him into an ambulance for transport to the hospital, Ginji thought he caught a glimpse of Akabane in the crowd. He had seen the casket warehouse truck parked nearby. The sense of knowing the mysterious Doctor Jackal was near yet remaining unseen disconcerted him.  
  
Stealing up behind Ginji like an elusive wraith, Akabane whispered, "Ah, it is too bad Ban-kun was hurt. I'll have to wait for him to heal. When I fight either of you, it makes me stronger. I look forward to facing you in the future" His words surprised the Get Backer, who was shaken by Jackal's abrupt appearance.  
  
When Ginji turned around to reply, the dangerous man had disappeared in the misty rain through the crowd. He regained his composure and accompanied his wounded partner on the ambulance ride to the hospital.  
  
More ambulances had arrived to transport the other casualties, the most serious of which were the two bandits who had been burned and were in critical condition.  
  
At that time, the Bernardelli agents reached the Shooters Service warehouse. They noted the damage that had occurred as a result of the aborted robbery and ensuing confrontation. It was comparable to the destruction wrought by greedy bounty hunters, who had trashed entire towns in their quest to claim the bounty on Vash the Stampede.  
  
Viewing the devastation, Meryl knew that her employer would be liable to pay the damages. //If we can stop any future fraudulent claims and nab Blaine, then whatever cost is incurred in this case is worth it.//  
  
"Now we need to find Wolfwood, Ban, and Ginji," Meryl said resolutely. She was eager to share her findings with the men and set out to capture the alleged culprit behind the series of thefts.  
  
On the edge of the crowd, the man who had concocted the insurance fraud scheme felt drawn to observe the results of the failed robbery like a person gawking at the carnage of a deadly automobile accident or a train wreck. He felt an odd thrill because nobody—the insurance company or the police or anyone else for that matter—had connected him as the guiding force behind the crimes.  
  
His confidence was at a high level. Though the robbery attempt by the Bad Lads had gone awry, it was a minor stumbling block in his bid to reap riches. The schemer knew it would be fairly easy to find gullible underlings to do his bidding by dangling enough money before them.  
  
In an effort to keep from getting drenched from the rain and also to remain unnoticed, Blaine pulled his jacket over his head to act as a makeshift hood. He decided against adding his shades to his disguise since wearing the sunglasses would be conspicuous when the weather was overcast and stormy. Seeing the Bernardelli agents arrive in an excited state, the man decided it was time to make an undetected exit.  
  
As he edged away from the vicinity of the warehouse, Blaine pondered the situation. Meryl was a crack shot. //She should be since I trained her.// He gloated inwardly. In conversations he had had with Neon, the outlaw had given him the rundown on a number of people who might be in May City for the tournament. The preacher the agents were talking to was an excellent marksman. Neon had mentioned the ruse Wolfwood and Vash had pulled at the previous year's Quick Draw Tournament, so Blaine figured that he would be a force to be reckoned with. The unknown was the second insurance investigator, the tall brunette.  
  
* * *  
  
At the same time when Blaine was watching the scene, the insurance agents had finally located Wolfwood, as he was about to leave to meet them. He had checked on Ban's status with Ginji before the ambulance transported the wounded teen to the hospital for treatment.  
  
Milly gasped, "Mr. Priest, we're glad we found you. We've got some important news."  
  
Meryl's blue-gray eyes brightened as she proudly made her announcement. "We figured out who the mastermind is behind all of the thefts. It was Deke Blaine." She watched the preacher closely for his reaction.  
  
"Good work. That matches the information I picked up on the identity of the scumbag who planned all this shit," Wolfwood replied.  
  
Her curiosity piqued at hearing the preacher's disclosure, the petite woman asked, "How'd you find out it was Blaine?"  
  
"From him,"the grinning blue-eyed minister said, gesturing towards the unconscious form of Brilliant Dynamites Neon being toted on a stretcher to a waiting ambulance. The paramedics strained to carry the barrel-chested outlaw in his gaudy outfit, though the remaining dynamo had been detached from his shoulder to make it easier for the EMTs to lift him onto the stretcher.  
  
Wolfwood lit a cigarette, took a drag from it and then continued, "I heard his confession before he fell unconscious. It was right after Ginji zapped him with a bolt of electricity."  
  
"Ginji did what?' interjected Milly.  
  
"You wouldn't believe that a gentle kid like him wields such enormous power," the preacher stated. He then recounted the events of the confrontation with the Bad Lads to the two women.  
  
"How's Ban doing now?" Milly asked in a concerned tone.  
  
"The paramedics told me he'll pull through; the wound wasn't life- threatening. I plan on stopping by the hospital later to visit him."  
  
"I'm glad to hear he wasn't hurt seriously, but we have to turn our attention to nabbing Blaine quickly before he leaves town," Meryl said, shifting the topic of conversation. She went on to describe Blaine's appearance to Wolfwood and Milly  
  
"So this old friend of yours has turned out to be a real slimy character," the preacher remarked.  
  
"That seems to be the case," she replied.  
  
"Let's nail that bastard to the wall," Wolfwood said as he proceeded to check the Cross-Punisher's ammunition supply.  
  
While the other two conferred, Milly scrutinized the gathered onlookers for any sign of the wanted man. She observed someone walking away nonchalantly from the crowd and noticed that he fit the description of Blaine. The brunette said excitedly. "I think I see him leaving on the other side of the crowd."  
  
Though the rain didn't give her a clear view, Meryl looked in the direction that Milly indicated and locked gazes with the man, confirming the identification.  
  
Knowing that he had been spotted, Blaine realized the jig was up. His scheme had been foiled, so he decided to make a quick exit. //I better go before they're on my trail. Besides, there are pigeons waiting to be plucked in any town I go to and their money will pad my bank account.//  
  
"After him!' Meryl yelled as the trio set off in pursuit  
  
Quickening his pace, Blaine scanned the surroundings for a possible escape route. Rounding a corner, he stumbled and fell in the street. He regained his footing and continued running. Turning into an alley that dead-ended he thought would be a shortcut was a crucial mistake. Realizing his error, he backtracked and ended straight in the path of his three pursuers.  
  
"There he is!" Wolfwood shouted, firing a warning burst above the fleeing man's head. He could have easily killed the target, but Blaine was of more use to them alive in order to provide some much-needed answers.  
  
Hearing the bullets whiz by above him, Blaine paused for a second near a warehouse and glanced back over his shoulder at the trio. He saw the taller woman readying a bulky weapon from its holder and held it to her shoulder. Standing transfixed as Milly fired the stun gun, he was dumbfounded by the sight of the projectile spreading out on its flight towards him. The bracket's eight prongs surrounded his torso, his arms confined to his side. The impact from the collision knocked him against the building, pinioning him to the adobe wall where he was immobilized.  
  
"Good shot, Milly." Meryl congratulated her partner.  
  
"Thanks," the tall brunette replied, high-fiving Wolfwood.  
  
"Let's go get some answers," Meryl said seriously as she moved towards the captured con artist, stopping about five feet away from him. Though the man was pinned against a wall, she wasn't going to risk being close enough where he could try to kick her or lash out with any hidden weapons. Out of respect to his mercenary background, Meryl was wary of the man and what he was capable of doing.  
  
Water puddled on the pavement as the rain began falling harder. Glaring at her former instructor, whose neutral expression showed no indication of panic or worry, "Meryl demanded, "Why did you hire the Bad Lads to rob the warehouse?"  
  
"I don't know what the hell you're talking about," he growled defiantly.  
  
Infuriated, Meryl pointed at him and summarized the accusations, "You engineered a scheme to defraud the Bernardelli Insurance Society out of hundreds of thousands of double-dollars with false theft claims. Besides benefiting from the claims, you also split the ill-gotten gains from the sale of the stolen weapons with the thieves."  
  
Blaine snickered, "That's ludicrous. You have no proof. You girls must've dreamed up these fairy tale explanations to impress your bosses at the insurance company."  
  
Without his accusers being aware, the entrepreneur tested how tightly he was pinned against the wall by the projectile. Its prongs had become embedded in the soft adobe wall of the building, but the moisture from the drizzle had loosened them a tiny bit. If it continued to rain, he might be able to flex his muscles and free himself from his predicament. He decided to keep his opponents distracted from his attempt to free himself by keeping up a steady argument.  
  
"You want proof? I'll give it to you," the petite investigator said angrily. She reeled off the list of aliases and their connection to him.  
  
"Bullshit. I have no idea who Bo Fortune or Dunn Hill are," he chided.  
  
"I'm looking at them right now," she said bluntly, staring at the accused man. The woman brushed away a strand of hair that had matted on her forehead by the rain.  
  
"Prove it in court."  
  
Stepping forward, the preacher declared, "We've got the goods on you, Blaine. Brilliant Dynamites Neon confessed that you were the mastermind behind the robberies and that you were going to split the money from the gun sales with him." Wolfwood spoke with the satisfied smile of someone who had just pounded a wooden stake into the heart of a vampire.  
  
"Who'd believe a lowlife like Neon? He'd probably say anything to save his own neck from the hangman's noose," Blaine retorted. With his body pinned to the wall, he wished he could move his arms to relieve the irritation caused by the rough texture of the adobe bricks rubbing against his back.  
  
"I'm sure the authorities will get a full statement from him while he's recuperating in the hospital," the preacher said matter-of-factly. "Face it, you've been caught dead to rights."  
  
Wondering why such an upstanding member of the community would resort to an elaborate scheme, Meryl demanded, "Why would anybody do such a thing?"  
  
Without weighing the consequences of his words, the man answered, "The high cost of success. I'm a wealthy merchant who owns several gun shops over the years, but I was leveraged to the hilt with debt in order to expand my business and to maintain the comfortable lifestyle I'd become accustomed to. The banks wouldn't extend me any more lines of credit and were demanding immediate payment or they'd begin to repossess my assets." Pausing, he blinked to clear his eyes of the raindrops trickling down his forehead. He continued his explanation in a confident voice, "So I concocted this ingenious scheme of faking robberies of my stores to collect the insurance money and then making scads of dough from selling the 'stolen' weapons,"  
  
Wolfwood rolled his eyes at hearing the dubious story. //Blaine's got an ego as wide as a canyon and an appetite for greed to match. He's so full of himself. I bet he didn't realize that he just put himself on a silver platter.//  
  
Fists clenched at her sides, Meryl seethed at Blaine's braggadocio and hoped to see the braggart's ego deflated quickly.  
  
The light rain had turned into a steady drizzle when Milly revealed, "We discovered that the weapons from one of the robberies had been linked to the Little Jersey school massacre. My sister was wounded in the attack. I hold you directly responsible for all of the misery that my sister has suffered through."  
  
Wolfwood's face darkened to match the storm-filled sky above as he lamented, "What about all of the innocent children and teachers who were killed? And the survivors who'll be scarred forever, emotionally and physically? You don't give a damn about the victims. You only care about chasing after the almighty double-dollar." He restrained himself from pulling the trigger or Blaine would be a tattered corpse at that moment.  
  
"I do care. I made a $$20 contribution to the memorial fund," Blaine deadpanned.  
  
Milly felt disdain for him.//With all of his resources, he's not a very compassionate person.// She glanced at each of her friends and saw their angry expressions.  
  
Hearing enough from the smug merchant, Milly screamed, "You bastard!" Wolfwood cast a quick peek over at the brunette upon hearing her curse.  
  
Blaine chuckled at the outraged trio. "I'm not responsible for anyone's death since I didn't kill anyone. Why should I regret it?"  
  
His eyes blazing with contempt, the preacher insisted, "If you knew what the punks were going to use the guns for, why didn't you try to stop them?"  
  
Blaine retorted, "I'm just a businessman trying to get ahead in this world by whatever means possible. What a customer does with a firearm after purchasing it from my store is none of my concern. If people use my guns to commit crimes, it's not my problem." Guffawing, he added, "It's not my moral responsibility to legislate people's lives. I believe that's your area of expertise, Padre," referring to the preacher in a condescending manner.  
  
Digesting the man's barbed remarks, Wolfwood muttered, "You don't care about the victims or anyone else. Just the money." He'd like to see the accursed man dead. The image of Blaine's limp corpse swinging from a gallows, twisting in the wind, popped into his mind.  
  
Listening to the exchange between the two men, Meryl seethed at her former tutor's egotism. A man she once held in high regard had become a monster, only out for selfish gain at the expense of others. Glancing at her friends, she noted the fury etched on their faces from hearing the impact of Blaine's schemes had had on loved ones and innocents.  
  
With a hardened expression, Meryl snapped, "I'll celebrate the day when the cops lock you up in prison and throw away the key. I despise you."  
  
Through the rain, she couldn't discern the defiant gaze on Blaine's face. "You overlooked one crucial detail, how to work the system to your benefit. I'd only be in jail for a short time. Even if I was incarcerated, I'd be able to run my operation by proxy through some very capable attorneys." He took a breath and continued, "Don't you know it'd be futile for the authorities to imprison me? I'd be in a minimum-security prison since they'd only have me sentenced for insurance fraud. It's not like I'm one of those violent criminals like serial killers or rapists that the authorities should keep locked up."  
  
Meryl contemplated Blaine's insolent attitude and what would be her next course of auction when her thoughts were sidetracked by his uttering in a hubristic voice, "Come to think of it, you've pointed out some of the things I've done wrong. I'll never make those same mistakes again; it'll be even less likely I'll be caught the next time."  
  
As he spoke, Meryl, Milly, and Wolfwood stood speechless in the steady downpour. Blaine's words were laced with an arrogance that oozed like pus seeping from an open sore.  
  
Blaine smirked as he imagined the expressions of his adversaries' faces. //That admission got the desired result. Now to keep 'em talking while I wiggle loose from this damned metal bracket.// The poor visibility in the pouring rain benefited him because his opponents did not have a clear view of his hands as he tried to free himself.  
  
Addressing his former student, Blaine tried a different tactic to win his freedom. "You know, I could make your life a lot easier. Name your price. I'll peel off a large wad of double-dollars from my bankroll and give it to you to make it worth your while if you set me free and allow me to go on my way."  
  
Meryl fumed when she was offered the bribe. "How dare you! You have some nerve."  
  
Blaine interrupted her by making his pitch to Milly. "I'm sure a secretary at Bernardelli doesn't make much more than minimum wage. How about it? Will you accept my offer?"  
  
"No way. Nobody's sunk as low as you," she replied, firmly.  
  
After Milly refused the bribe, the persuasive criminal switched his attention to Wolfwood. "Hey, aren't you the itinerant preacher who's been in town the last few days seeking donations for orphans?" Wolfwood grunted. 'Perhaps I could make a sizable donation to the orphanage?" he asked convincingly.  
  
The preacher declined the donation, "Besides being a man of the cloth, I'm also a man whose integrity can't be bought. I won't accept any damned blood money even if it's intended for a worthy cause."  
  
"Just think of those poor kids going hungry and sleeping in a cold building," he said, trying to induce a guilt-ridden reply.  
  
"To hell with you, Blaine," Meryl roared angrily. "You're scum of the earth with your dirty bribes." She no longer held any shred of respect for a man whom she had admired when she was younger. He was now a heinous crook, trampling others in a mad rush for greed. Prison was too good for him, but what could be done with him?  
  
Blaine, clandestinely wriggling against the bracket in an effort to break free, decided to take a different approach now that his attempt at direct bribery had failed. He interrupted her thoughts. "You might not need the money for yourself, but what about your parents? I heard that their house was almost foreclosed upon because they fell behind on their mortgage and paying their medical bills."  
  
Blue-gray eyes grew wide at hearing his words. "How did you know about their medical bills?" she asked anxiously.  
  
"I overheard a loan officer at the bank say something about it when I was negotiating terms for a business line of credit," he said quickly.  
  
"I don't believe you." Shaking her head in disbelief, the petite woman hadn't disclosed the full details about her parents or their financial situation to anyone. She found it unlikely that a loose-lipped banker would gossip about clients while others eavesdropped; it was a breach of confidentiality. Meryl deduced that Blaine must have had some inside information or a personal connection to the circumstances that had caused her family so much misery.  
  
Meryl paused and reflected on her parents. Her father had suffered a coronary two years ago and had incurred huge medical bills from his long medical stay and subsequent visits to the cardiologist. The heart attack had incapacitated him, leaving him unable to work. As a result, he received a disability pension to subsist on. The circumstances forced her mother to seek work to help pay the bills. In the meantime, her father had shrived to a mere shell of his once vibrant self. [1]  
  
Listening to the exchange, Wolfwood looked confused and asked, "What's this got to do with anything  
  
Turning to Wolfwood, she remarked, "Dad mentioned he had invested their nest egg in a business that went bankrupt. He worked so much overtime to make up for the lost income, but he suffered a heart attack from too much stress and ended up in the hospital."  
  
Laughing, Blaine replied smugly, "It's sweeter when you bilk your friends out of their life's savings. I did send your father a get well card when he was hospitalized."  
  
The rain was falling in torrents. Meryl's fury matched the intensity of the thunderstorm overhead as lightning crackled in the distance. "Damn you to hell! I've had enough of you fucking bastard! In her agitated state, her sense of judgment had become clouded. Without thinking clearly, she pointed one of her derringers at him, her hands shaking unsteadily with rage.  
  
Feeling the bracket that confined him loosening from the adobe wall unbeknownst to Milly, Meryl, and Wolfwood, Blaine decided now was the moment to break free and escape. His attempts to convince the others to free him had failed. He had the physical advantage over the small woman and could easily overpower her with his strength. He counted on the fact that the sight of him breaking free would stun her two friends and hence, they would be slow to intervene.  
  
After taking a deep breath, Blaine flexed his elbows and pushed out his chest, bursting forth from his confined position against the wall; the metal bracket that held him clattered to the ground. Milly and Wolfwood were startled by the sudden noise and took a step backwards.  
  
With an adrenaline rush, Blaine lunged towards the black-haired woman in an attempt to wrest the derringer away from her. The desperate man lost his footing on the rain-slicked pavement. As he slipped, his arms flailed about and his torso collided with the diminutive woman in a frantic reach for her pistol.  
  
Meryl stood motionless, dumbstruck by the sudden attack. As she felt his bulk collide with her, she instinctively pulled the trigger of her derringer in an effort to protect herself.  
  
The .22 caliber bullet passed through Blaine's chest and pierced his heart. He sagged against Meryl, his wound staining her sodden white cloak crimson as the vital fluid exited his body.  
  
He tried to mouth words, but only gurgled an unintelligible mumble. One of his final thoughts was that the once infatuated girl he had taught to shoot actually had the audacity to shoot him. The last image Deke Blaine saw was a stray raindrop running down his former student's face before he crumpled lifelessly into a puddle of bloody rain.  
  
As quickly as a lightning bolt arcing through the night sky, it was over in an instant. Milly had no chance to shout a warning to her partner. She had never seen anyone who had been captured in the bracket break free from its grip. In the moment that followed after the fatal gunshot rang out, their shocked reaction switched to concern while they rushed over to check on their colleague's safety.  
  
Bending down, Wolfwood placed two fingers against the man's jugular and confirmed the nonexistent pulse. Nodding to the two women, the preacher stood up and stated flatly, "He's dead."  
  
Hearing the succinct declaration of death combined with the images of the corpse before her and her drenched, blood-splattered cloak to strike Meryl with the cold impact of what had just happened registered on her mind. "What have I done?" she wailed as she collapsed against Wolfwood. Realizing that she had killed another human being, Meryl beseeched, "Please forgive me God."  
  
"He will," Wolfwood said, consoling her. Milly hugged her distraught friend in a comforting embrace, whispering words of reassurance. In the distance, sirens blared from ambulances carrying the injured from the warehouse confrontation to the hospital.  
  
Feeling the rain lightening up a little, the preacher glanced upward and prayed, "Look, Lord, I don't ask for much, but please let the rain wash away some of the pain." He then turned his attention to the sobbing woman in his arms.  
  
* * * * *  
  
To be continued  
  
Author's Note  
  
[1] Because Nightow never specified any information about Meryl's parents, their background has been created for this story. 


	8. Homecoming

Title: Drawn to Danger [8/8]  
  
Author: Rubious  
  
Series: Trigun & Get Backers  
  
Rating: R  
  
Warnings: angst, violence, humor, gunplay, AU-OOC.  
  
Disclaimer: Trigun © Nightow. Get Backers © Aoki and Ayamine. All original characters including but not limited to Blaine, Lamassi, etc, are © Rubious and are not to be used without permission. This story is a work of fanfiction and is for entertainment purposes only.  
  
Spoilers: Contains minor spoilers for both series.  
  
Archive: fanfiction.net under "Rubious", mediaminer.org under "Rubious2", and my home page, Odango and Donuts, URL in bio info.  
  
Notes: While on assignment with Ban and Ginji of the Get Backers, Meryl and Milly are drawn into danger as they meet old friends as well as foes in May City.  
  
//thoughts//  
  
* * * * *  
  
The rain had dwindled to an intermittent drizzle when the authorities reached the scene. Still shaken by the events, Meryl shivered in her wet clothes despite the blanket a police officer had given her as she gave a statement to a detective. Wolfwood whispered to Milly, "We have to take Meryl somewhere quiet, away from all this madness."  
  
Milly agreed, "We'll have to stop at the hotel first and change out of these wet clothes. I don't want any of us to come down with a cold."  
  
"We could all use a good stiff drink to warm these cold bones, but Meryl needs it most of all after today," Wolfwood remarked.  
  
A detective named O'Malley gestured for them to come over. "That wraps it up here. I've taken all of your statements, but don't be leaving town for a few days in case we have any more questions for you regarding our investigation." He ducked under the yellow crime-scene tape that had been strung around the area. Glancing back, he told Milly and Wolfwood, "The little lass isn't looking too good." He departed and chased after the coroner's vehicle where the corpse had been loaded into a body bag and would be taken to the mortuary.  
  
After returning to the hotel, the insurance investigators showered and changed into fresh clothes. Looking at her reflection in a mirror, Meryl saw that her eyes were still bloodshot and puffy from her weeping. She tried smiling, but it was only a façade to hide the traumatic vortex she felt herself being pulled down into.  
  
"Let's go, Meryl," Milly suggested gently, appearing behind her partner. "Mr. Priest is meeting us downstairs.  
  
"Okay," the tired woman sighed. "I guess I should eat something." The pair exited their suite and met Wolfwood in the hotel lobby.  
  
They walked a short distance down the street to a small saloon. The late afternoon storms had cooled the temperatures from the searing heat of the day; there was a definite nip in the night air. Seeing Meryl shiver, Wolfwood instinctively removed his coat and draped it over her shoulders.  
  
Pulling the coat tightly around her, she said softly, "Thank you."  
  
Knowing she had undergone a stressful day, Wolfwood replied, "No problem. You don't need to add getting sick to everything that's happened today."  
  
Milly smiled maternally, grateful for the compassion the preacher had shown their friend. Looking at the sign in the window, she asked, "Is this the place, Mr. Priest?"  
  
"Yeah, it is," he answered. As they entered the saloon, Wolfwood observed the dimly lit room was quiet. Ceiling fans spun slowly while the bartender played solitaire and a bored waitress buffed her nails listening to the radio play in the background. //This is perfect. Not too loud on the ears and not too bright on the eyes.//  
  
He strode over to the bar and placed an order for some food for the three of them. Joining the two women at a table near the rear of the room, Wolfwood stated, "I ordered some hot tomato soup and ham sandwiches for us."  
  
Ten minutes later, the waitress brought over their order. "There's nothing like comfort food to warm the tummy," Milly said in a satisfied voice after finishing her meal.  
  
After having a bite of the sandwich and some spoonfuls of soup, Meryl pushed her plate away and said, "I can't eat any more."  
  
Wolfwood motioned to the brunette and remarked, "Pardon us, Meryl, but I have to discuss something with Milly privately."  
  
"Don't mind me," the dark-haired woman said dazedly. Though the hearty meal sated her appetite, it didn't combat the emptiness she felt inside.  
  
By the bar, Wolfwood glanced back at Meryl and then spoke to her partner in a hushed voice, "She's hiding the pain, but she must be going through an emotional hell. It's time for this." He pointed to a tray with a fifth of whiskey and three shot glasses on it.  
  
"How is alcohol going to help?" Milly asked.  
  
"It'll dull the pain. The dam's about to burst and she's gotta let it out. We'll keep her glass filled, but barely touch ours. Somebody's gotta stay sober." The pair returned to the table with the drinks; their chairs scraped on the wooden floor as they were pulled out, the noise startled Meryl.  
  
"It's time for a toast," the preacher said, pouring the amber liquid into the shot glasses. "To Ban and Ginji," he saluted as the three clinked their glasses together in a toast to their absent colleagues.  
  
"I don't usually drink, but I'll make an exception this time," Meryl said before gulping the alcohol down, feeling it sear her throat on its way down. The others barely sipped their drinks.  
  
"To Meryl, for cracking the case," Milly offered, watching Wolfwood refill Meryl's glass.  
  
The subject of the toast drained her glass and slammed it down on the table. "What did I do that's so special?" Her voice quivered as she spoke. "A man is dead because of me." Tears welled up in bluish-gray eyes and her cheeks became flushed.  
  
"You stopped a heartless villain from hurting more people," Milly said, consolingly.  
  
"You were doing your job, Meryl. It was either kill or be killed. That guy was going for your gun. You had no idea if he was going to use it on you," Wolfwood said, trying to reason with the distraught woman.  
  
Dabbing at her eyes with a tissue that Milly offered her, Meryl paused and then blubbered, "I killed Deke Blaine this afternoon. I'm a murderer plain and simple. I belong in jail with the other criminals." Lost in her heartache, she wasn't aware of her true surroundings and the fact that her companions weren't drinking.  
  
"Bullshit, Meryl. You're not a murderer. Even if it went to trial, any jury in their right mind would acquit you because it was a case of justifiable self-defense," Wolfwood replied reassuringly as he refilled her glass with whiskey. "Have another drink."  
  
While Meryl slowly sipped her third shot of whiskey, her partner suggested, "I think I know why she's hurting so much," which elicited an arched eyebrow from the preacher. Milly continued, "Blaine was a family friend. I doubt she's ever killed anyone before, even if it was an accident. Isn't that right, Meryl?"  
  
The inebriated woman paused and answered meekly, her words slightly slurred, "Yes. I've seen a lot of people get hurt and even die on this job, especially since we were assigned to follow Vash. But this is the first time anyone close to me died as a result of something I did. It's my fault Blaine's dead."  
  
Wolfwood said, "No, it's not." He refilled her glass covertly and made sure it stayed full as they listened to Meryl ramble on. Soon the exhaustion from the hectic day and the alcohol she had imbibed had taken its toll on her and she fell asleep on the table. Her hand knocked over a shot glass, spilling the whiskey. Milly mopped it up with a napkin.  
  
"When we had Blaine cornered, that was the first time I ever heard you use such strong language," he said.  
  
Milly touched the preacher's hand and smiled. "It's so unlike me, but Blaine was such a horrible person who made me furious. I couldn't contain my anger."  
  
The waitress brought over their bill, which Milly paid for with the Bernardelli credit card. As the preacher and the brunette helped the inebriated investigator out of the saloon and back to the hotel, Wolfwood declared, "Mission accomplished."  
  
"Mr. Priest?" Milly glanced at him quizzically.  
  
"As concerned friends, we did our duty to help her out in her time of need. When Meryl wakes up in the morning, she's gonna have a helluva hangover. The main thing is the booze helped ease the pain. Keep a close eye on her, okay?"  
  
"Don't worry. I will," the tall woman replied.  
  
The walk back to the hotel was cumbersome as they escorted the groggy Meryl, who had been awakened by the jostling movements and the nippy outside air. After entering the hotel, they took the elevator to the fourth floor and went to the women's suite. Milly unlocked the door and helped her partner inside, where Meryl promptly collapsed onto a bed.  
  
"I'll stop by tomorrow and see how she's doing after I visit Ban in the hospital. Have a good night." Wolfwood said from the hallway before he left.  
  
"Good night, Mr. Priest," Milly called out as she closed the door.  
  
* * *  
  
The next day, Wolfwood stopped by the shooting range where Frank Marlon returned the newly repaired revolver to the preacher. "Thanks again for fixing Vash's gun."  
  
As Wolfwood turned to leave for the hospital to visit Ban, the gunsmith called out, "It's a relief to read in the newspaper that the person responsible for all of the was caught. The world is a little bit safer now."  
  
"It certainly is," the preacher agreed, knowing that the darker side of the story would remain untold. He bade the man farewell and departed.  
  
A short time later, the visitor reached the nurse's station in the hospital and was directed to the room where Ban Mido was recuperating from the gunshot wound inflicted by one of the Bad Lads the day before. The Get Backer had undergone surgery and was resting comfortably. Sitting by his bedside was Ginji Amano, who was peeling an orange from a fruit basket; the card that came with the basket was inscribed, "Get well soon, Ban-kun. -Akabane."  
  
As the visitor entered, Ginji glanced up and greeted him, "Hello, Mr. Wolfwood? Have you heard from Milly and Meryl?"  
  
Moving to the foot of the bed, Wolfwood replied, "Hi, Ginji. Yes, they caught up with me after the showdown with Neon." Looking at Ban reminded him how worried he was about the Get Backers. //They're just kids. I could've done more to protect them.// He asked Ban, "How are you feeling?"  
  
"Weak and tired. The docs say I should be on my feet in under a week. They're going to rehab my leg before we go back to Shinjuku." Ban had a pained expression on his face as he waited for the painkillers to take effect.  
  
"It could've been worse. You might've gone home in a pine box," Wolfwood answered before recounting the events of the afternoon before; "I stopped by to update you on what went down yesterday. Milly and Meryl figured out who had planned all of the robberies and went out looking for you guys. They arrived after Ginji went wild with his electricity and zapped Neon. The dude the girls were after tried to sneak away, but Milly spotted him. We chased him down and during the scuffle Meryl's gun fired, killing him."  
  
Ban forced his eyes to stay open as he listened. "Back up a second. You said Ginji fried some guys?" Wolfwood nodded. Ban turned his gaze to his partner and scowled disapprovingly. "So Raitei showed up? What did I tell you about going Raitei on people/"  
  
His brown eyes downcast at hearing the reprimand, Ginji apologized, "I'm sorry, Ban-chan. I had to do something. Those guys had hurt you, so I had to do something to stop them."  
  
The Jagan-user nodded and smiled. "Try not to let it happen again," he said. Whatever anger he had felt towards the blond quickly faded away because he knew Ginji cared so much about him.  
  
Wolfwood observed the exchange with a keen eye, noting the devotion and dedicated friendship the two teens shared reminded him how intuitive his relationship with Vash the Stampede had been before the outlaw had disappeared. Seeing the two young men speaking softly, the preacher felt his presence was no longer needed and exited the room.  
  
* * *  
  
Later that afternoon, the sharpshooting minister stopped by the City Hotel to check on Meryl and Milly. They were in their temporary office in the conference room, working on the report they'd submit to the company on the Blaine incident. After greeting Wolfwood, Milly poured him a cup of fresh coffee.  
  
He informed them, "I just came back from visiting Ban and Ginji at the hospital. Ban should be out and about in two weeks."  
  
"That's good to hear," Meryl said, rubbing her temple.  
  
Wolfwood inquired, "How are you doing?"  
  
"Right now, my head is pounding as if somebody's been using it for an anvil."  
  
"I'm sorry to hear that," Wolfwood replied before lighting a cigarette. He drew in the smoke and then slowly exhaled, watching the tendrils waft upwards. "Last night you told us about your father's heart condition. Isn't it ironic that the man who indirectly caused all of his problems dies from a gunshot to the heart?"  
  
Milly pondered for a moment. "Yeah, you're right, Mr. Priest."  
  
"I really don't want to talk about this now," the hung-over investigator stated. Opening a bottle of aspirin, she swallowed two tablets with a glass of water and hoped for some relief from the headache. Meryl tried to concentrate on the report. Work was the best remedy to keep herself occupied and not dwell on Deke Blaine, even though the report chronicling his downfall served as a constant reminder of painful emotions. "We have to get back to compiling this report for the home office."  
  
The trio chatted for several more minutes before Wolfwood rose up from his chair. "Ladies, I won't be keeping you from your work any longer. Would you like to join me for dinner tonight?"  
  
Her face brightening, Milly replied gratefully, "Definitely." Meryl added painfully, "Sure. But no booze."  
  
The preacher grinned. "No problem. I'll stop by around seven o'clock then." That evening the three friends enjoyed a delicious meal, which was a welcome diversion from the stress and pain of the day before.  
  
* * *  
  
Three weeks after the Quick Draw Tournament ended, Meryl and Milly sat in the Bernardelli employee lounge enjoying some coffee on their mid-morning break when a message came over the intercom. "Milly Thompson and Meryl Stryfe, please report to Mr. Lamassi's office."  
  
Looking puzzled, Meryl wondered why they were being summoned for a meeting with the boss. Her heart sank as she pondered if it possibly had to do with ramifications from the events in May City. The authorities had cleared her of any wrongdoing in regards to Deke Blaine's death, ruling it a case of self-defense. The insurance investigators has then parted ways with Wolfwood and returned to December. After submitting a full report to Mr. Lamassi, they were given a short sabbatical and had returned to their duties a few days earlier.  
  
Milly spoke hopefully, "Maybe he's giving us a new assignment?"  
  
The petite woman shrugged. 'Let's go. It's the only way we're going to find out." The pair left the lounge and walked through the claims department, passing coworkers who whispered amongst themselves as the two women went by. Milly knocked on the manager's door.  
  
"Come in, "he called out. The two women entered the office and shut the door.  
  
"Meryl, Milly, it's good to see you again. I'm sorry that this is the first time we've had a meeting since you returned from your sabbatical. Please have a seat," Lamassi said cordially. "How have you been?"  
  
The two women sat down across from his paper-strewn desk. He noted that Meryl looked tentative while the brunette remained her usual cheerful self.  
  
Milly answered, "I'm fine" Casting a glance towards her partner, she continued, "Meryl's doing a lot better. The first couple of weeks back were really rough on her. But we're both glad to be back at work." Her partner smiled politely.  
  
Lamassi nodded in sympathy and said, "We're glad to have you back." After shuffling g some papers on his messy desk, he said, "Ah, here it is," finding a manila folder. "I asked you both here to go over the results of the May City case. The two of you have been awarded certificates of merit for your efforts in solving the fraudulent scheme perpetrated by Deke Blaine."  
  
"Thank you, sir," the women replied in unison, each smiling graciously.  
  
Lamassi went on to explain that the Bernardelli legal department had filed lawsuits against Blaine's estate in an attempt to recover the defrauded funds from his assets. He also informed them that Ban Mido had been discharged from the May City hospital and had returned to Shinjuku with Ginji Amano.  
  
"That's good to hear," Meryl said.  
  
Opening the top drawer in his desk, he reached in and took out two envelopes and laid them on his desk. "There is another aspect of the Blaine case we have to discuss, the company credit card that was issued to you. After receiving the monthly statement, the accounting department compiled a report, indicating that you exceeded the card's credit limit."  
  
Milly whispered to her colleague, "Oh, no." The two women glanced apprehensively at each other.  
  
Scanning the expense listing, Lamassi raised an eyebrow and mentioned an item that caught his attention, "A hotel suite? Isn't that a tad extravagant, Ms. Stryfe? I advised you to use the card wisely." He spoke firmly, but in a threatening manner.  
  
"Sir, our options were limited. Everything in town was booked," Meryl said defensively.  
  
"Do you remember what the repercussions were for exceeding the credit limit?"  
  
"Yes," she said meekly, her eyes downcast. Her mind raced back to the earlier meeting where infractions would lead to marks on their permanent record or possible termination.  
  
Standing up, Lamassi, a twinkle in his eye and a surreptitious smile that only of the women noticed, picked up the envelopes on his desk and handed them to the two employees. "The company has made a decision on the penalties regarding the improper use of the company's credit card and weighed them against your performances during the May City assignment. Please open the envelopes."  
  
Meryl glanced worriedly at her partner and then opened the envelope with trepidation, expecting a pink slip or notice of dismissal. Her eyes grew wide with surprise to find a ticket and reservations at a spa in Inepril. She turned to Milly, who squealed with delight upon finding the same contents in her envelope.  
  
"Why?" a baffled Meryl asked Lamassi.  
  
"Because you did a real bang-up job and saved the company thousands of double-dollars. You've both earned a vacation," he said proudly.  
  
"Thank you, boss," the girls chorused. Milly stood up, walked over and hugged Lamassi, who gasped for breath from the tight embrace.  
  
The brunette apologized, "I'm sorry," and returned to her seat.  
  
"Ladies, you might want to hurry. If you look closely at the tickets, you leave tomorrow," Lamassi said benevolently.  
  
Meryl smiled and got up from her seat. "Come on, Milly. We have to pack." The two women scurried excitedly from the manager's office. The office workers were startled to see them so happy because they expected the hammer to fall and the two investigators would be fired, not rewarded with a vacation.  
  
As the insurance investigators hustled out of the building towards their apartment, Milly said excitedly, "I can't wait to try one of those pudding baths at the spa."  
  
* * *  
  
On a quiet afternoon in Shinjuku, Paul Wan, the proprietor of the Honky Tonk, was engrossed in the newspaper he was reading. Natsumi stood beside him, arranging glasses on the counter when the bell above the front door jangled and two familiar figures entered the café. Ban hobbled inside, using a cane as a support, followed by Ginji holding several packages.  
  
The sixteen-year-old waitress greeted the long absent pair enthusiastically, "It's so good to see you two again."  
  
Setting down his newspaper, Paul acknowledged their presence. "I'm glad you're back It's been too quiet around here without you guys around. By the way, Hevn wanted to know when you returned. I'll give her a call later."  
  
As Ginji assisted the Jagan-user over to a booth, he declared, "It feels good to be home again."  
  
Ban agreed. ""I'm sick of seeing sand. The place we went to was a damned desert." He paused to light a cigarette and took a drag from it. "By the way, we brought you guys back souvenirs from our trip."  
  
Lowering his glasses to glance over at the two youths, Paul remarked, "Really?"  
  
"Yes, we did," replied Ginji proudly, bringing the packages over to the counter. Paul unwrapped a medium-sized box that contained two ceramic beer steins, which he then placed on a shelf behind the bar to display.  
  
"Thank you very much," the proprietor commented, touched by their gesture of kindness.  
  
"Ban and Ginji, thank you for the silver barrette," Natsumi squealed delightedly. She replaced the old hairpin she wore with the new one given to her by the Get Backers.  
  
Paul noticed that Ban was using a cane when he entered the café. On previous occasions, the Get Backer had returned from assignments with his arm in a sling. Walking over to the booth, the businessman remarked, "I see that it wasn't your arm that got that hurt this time. What happened?"  
  
Stubbing out his cigarette into an ashtray, Ban exhaled the last tendrils of smoke and answered, "Got hit by a punk's lucky shot, but he got his in the end."  
  
"I hope it won't keep you from getting any assignments."  
  
"There won't be any problem. We're ready to roll at any time," Ginji said. Natsumi brought over two steaming mugs of coffee for them. Ban sipped from his mug, inhaling the aroma of the piping hot liquid. "There's nothing like fresh brewed java, especially when you're back home." He then dug into his pants pocket and pulled out a wad of currency. Frustration filled his voice when he spoke, "After all of the stuff we went through, this is all we ended up with."  
  
In a concerned voice, Ginji queried, "What's wrong, Ban-chan?"  
  
His blue eyes narrowed, Ban stated, "Our payoff was a lot less than I expected. After Hevn took her cut and the lousy exchange rate, we've got next to nothing. Even Hevn had a difficult time finding somewhere to convert the double-dollars into yen"  
  
Ginji got up from his side of the booth, sat down next to Ban and placed an arm around his shoulders. "Don't worry, Ban-chan. At least, we got back home safely. The most important thing is we have our friends and each other to count on," he said consolingly.  
  
Hearing the exchange, Paul mused that the Get Backers seemed to be snake bit when it came to financial matters. Their big payoff was ever elusive, one circumstance or another preventing them from their grabbing their windfall. .  
  
Ginji's asking, "Master, could you make a pizza for us?" interrupted his thoughts.  
  
"Make it pepperoni," Ban added, grinning.  
  
Rolling his eyes, Paul replied, "You know this is going on your tab, right?"  
  
Life at the Honky Tonk had returned to its daily routine with the Get Backers waiting for their next client to walk in while their tab accumulated.  
  
Like sailors chasing a siren's song, Ban Mido and Ginji Amano would not shy away from any assignment, regardless of the risks involved, whether it was as mundane as recovering a lost cat to deciphering the hidden secrets of Mugenjo  
  
Danger was also an integral element in the lives of Meryl Stryfe and Milly Thompson. Was it destiny or just random chance that the two women found themselves in perilous situations in their duty of monitoring the Humanoid Typhoon? Many challenges would lie ahead for the duo and all of them pointed to Vash the Stampede.  
  
* * *  
  
THE END  
  
Author's Notes  
  
[1] This fic is dedicated to the Angstmaster, Enigma, whose works have inspired me many times.  
  
[2] In the past, I had written mostly one-shots and humor-oriented stories. I wanted to expand my horizons and write a multi-chaptered angsty tale. The result is Drawn to Danger, which is my longest work to date in terms of time spent, effort, and word count.  
  
[3] TokyoPop released the first volume of the Get Backers manga in February 2004. Dark Horse has released two volumes of the Trigun manga.  
  
[4] For updates on upcoming fanfics, please check out my Live Journal at www.livejournal.com/~weisshund. 


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